Profound Revelations with Dog Rya, Patrick Swayze, & Me
The other night I had a profound revelation. It happened because of Patrick Swayze. This is the story.
P retired to the master quarters early. Dog Sula followed her. This left Dog Rya and me downstairs. So, we decided to watch a movie.
The movie we decided to watch was Road House, which is Patrick Swayze’s greatest film.
Ghost has Unchained Melody and turned ditto into a one-word love story.
In Point Break there’s a scene where Swazye says of his crew: “We show them the human spirit is still alive.” And despite being a bank-robbing, dog-tossing, murderous zen-surfer, Swayze’s hair is California-gold and part of me hopes he survived the 50-year storm and built a new life in New Zealand.
Dirty Dancing is Swayze’s most revered picture and a close second to Road House.
Interestingly to probably nobody but me - but something I’ve often argued - the best moment in Dirty Dancing is not when Swayze lifts Baby above his head and their summer fling triumphs in choreographed goodness during the end dance number.
The best moment actually happens later, once everyone has crowded the dance floor. There’s this moment when the music slows and Swayze’s hair is sweaty and curled and beautiful pressed against his forehead.
He starts mouthing the words to the song. Baby grabs his shoulder with one hand and caresses the back of his neck with the other.
As the song reaches its apex, Swayze scrunches his face, rocks his head, and says to Baby, “And I owe it all to you.”
Their eyes lock like two people who won’t have clothes on much longer. Then, they kiss.
Damn if this moment isn’t magic.
But Road House is Swayze’s best.
And Dog Rya had never seen it.
I made a hot chocolate for myself and grabbed a bag of bite-sized treats for Dog Rya. She nuzzled her head into me, then twisted her body to see the TV. I covered us with a blanket and pressed play.
If you’re reading this and have never seen Road House, then: Adjust your priorities. Watch the d**n movie. And message me so we can discuss.
Until then, we’re not friends.
Now, here’s the most important synopsis you’ve ever read (major plot spoilers).
Swayze’s character is named Dalton. Dalton’s a cooler - not a bouncer - with a philosophy degree from NYU and a reputation for cleaning up the type of h**l-house bars more likely to have broken glass and blood on the floor than dancing shoes.
Dalton gets hired to fix the Double Deuce in Jasper, Missouri. Jasper is a town controlled by the evil Brad Wesley and his gang of henchmen who look more like past-their-prime Dads reminiscing about glory days while watching a high school football practice than the muscle behind a racketeering enterprise.
Jasper is also home to a doctor played by Kelly Lynch. Doc Lynch and Dalton meet when she stitches him up after he’s knife-sliced by one of Wesley’s Henchmen/Middle-Aged Dads.
Doc Lynch asks Dalton if he enjoys pain. He just smirks and says, “Pain don’t hurt.”
And they’re immediately smitten and soon make love to Otis Redding’s These Arms of Mine in the loft of the barn Dalton rented.
The more Wesley watches Swazyze, the more Wesley senses his grip on Jasper weakening. Wesley unleashes his goons on Dalton, and we climax in a pseudo-karate match for life and death between lead Henchman Jimmy and Dalton.
Dalton, with his torso glistening and in tight grey sweatpants, kills Jimmy and dumps his body into a pond.
Wesley is killed a few minutes later, and we’re left to assume Jasper, Dalton, and Doc Lynch all live happily ever after.
When Road House ended, Dog Rya uncurled from next to me, stood, and stretched. She pawed her way toward the stairs, stopping before going up to turn and give me a smile.
I followed upstairs a few minutes later. Found Dog Rya curled up like a bagel atop the white bedding in the guest room.
Her tongue half-hung from her mouth, and a half-smile spread across her face. It was the happiest I think I’d ever seen her.
I walked in and kissed her soft, brown head. Turned out the lights on my way out of the room.
I tucked myself into the only small, angled slice of space remaining in the bed.
As I lay there, surrounded by P sleeping and Dog Sula snoring, all I could think about was Patrick Swayze’s love scenes.
How in Road House he and Doc Lynch made love to Otis Redding’s These Arms of Mine.
And how in Dirty Dancing, when Baby tells Swayze, “... and most of all I’m scared of walking out of this room and never feeling the rest of my whole life… the way I feel when I’m with you,” it’s also with These Arms of Mine playing in the background.
Then, when Baby and Swayze embrace, it’s to Solomon Burke’s Cry to Me.
Sleep started to steal me away, and I couldn’t help but smile.
Because I had the profound realization that Patrick Swayze must love soul music.
Just like me.
Because I love soul music.
Friends-
Here are Dalton’s four best lines Road House:
Dalton: Nobody wins in a fight.
Dalton: You’re too stupid to have a good time.
Dalton: Be nice.
Dalton: Pain don’t hurt.
We love you.
And we’ll see you when we see you.