I never thought I would feel bad for Tom Cruise even once in my life, let alone twice. We’re talking about Tom Cruise (exclamation points implied throughout), probably the only actor in the world who can open a movie in Chicago and Calcutta, Boston and Beijing, with equal fervor.

This is a man who does his own stunts, in movies and in matrimony. He has Oscar nominations and he has more money than Les Grossman. Why would Jerry MacGuire, Charlie Babbitt, Ethan Hunt, Maverick, for God’s sake, need any sympathy, let alone mine when any day he’s ever had will probably be beat most people’s best day ever?

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When I was little, during school vacations, my mother had a strict one-hour limit on TV viewing. She knew that given the choice between running free outdoor and watching repeats of '70s and '80s sitcoms, there was no real contest.

Because of the restriction (which was firm and didn’t allow for any maneuvering), the daily decision of what to watch required the kind of high-level planning and attention to detail normally used only for military campaigns, shuttle launches and golddiggers eying future husbands.

Today, I have the same time limit, this one self-imposed because of life but over the past three months, I have...

In my last piece, "Generation Under," I wrote about actors that I’d like to see work more or do better quality work. The response was only slight less heated than a massive volcanic eruption. Thanks to everyone who took the time to comment – whether you were adding a thoughtful response or questioning my sanity, it’s great to hear from you. And while I’d always rather hit a nerve than put you to sleep, I do feel the need to add that it's just my opinion, no need to take it so ... personally. 

Now that we've seen to getting some actors back to work, I started thinking about the reverse -- actors, and I use that term loosely, that I’m sick of seeing.

Some of them long for...

If I didn’t know you at all, and I wanted to share a piece of my preteen years with you, I would say these names – Duckie, Andie, John Bender, Ferris, Blane, Lloyd Dobler, Watts. 

Would you know exactly who I mean? Would you flash back to being 13 or 16, in a movie theater or at a friend’s house, in back of a classroom quoting lines? If you were a kid in the '80s, you would.

I just finished reading a book about the Brat Pack by Susannah Gora called “You Couldn’t Ignore Me If You Tried” and it dusted off fond day-glo memories. 

Not only does the book give you all the behind-the-scenes dirt (Molly Ringwald wanted Andie to end up with Duckie only...