Once upon a Saturday evening I flipped through Netflix and found Dirty Dancing. I loved it so much that I collected the soundtrack from my mother’s CD stash, got it on MP3 format, and bought it on vinyl. In addition, it spurred a Latin music phase of sorts and inspired me to join a dance club at the U. Now I dream of finding my own personal Patrick Swayze and dancing the nights away with him. Despite the obvious hints that the movie was made in the ‘80s—like the grotesque exercise wear and synthesized pop tunes, it was amazing.
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