For those of us who grew up during the eighties, this has been a particularly hard summer. First, Michael Jackson leaves the building, and then, perhaps more shockingly, John Hughes left us too. You've read every conceivable essay and blog and opinion piece written by the famous and non-famous about their Hughes memory, so I'll give you mine: When I was about 11, I went to see Ferris Bueller's Day Off with my father, who's also no longer with us. My father had a pretty crude sense of humor, which was passed along in bits to me, and I distinctly remember that our favorite part was the scene when Jennifer Grey thinks she's got a house intruder and kicks the snooping principal Mr. Rooney in the face three times. Because we were immature, we giggled every time Rooney was shown on screen with Kleenex stuffed up his nose. I bring all this up because last night we went with two friends, both MSO PR publicists, Libby and Alex, for Donovan Leitch's John Hughes tribute at the Palihouse. On the screen: Ferris Bueller.

Though we didn't make it to the end when Grey does her infamous karate chop on the hapless principal, we did stick around long enough to watch Bueller get into the fine Chicago restaurant as Abe Froman ("the sausage king of Chicago") and pick up his hot girlfriend. Alex commented: "Hopefully kids are watching these moves and learning something from them." I replied, "Yes, how to skip school properly."

We watched as we listened to Leitch spin tunes while sitting at a turntable set up that resembled a desk, with a light, even (thus making him look sort of like a principal, himself). He played some songs that were directly from Hughes movies, and some that were simply inspired by them, including "Tainted Love," Billy Idol's "Eyes Without a Face," and that "Oh Yeah," song. (You know the one they play every time they take Cameron's dad's fancy car out.)

First we watched the end of the Breakfast Club, and marveled at the beauty that was Judd Nelson as he put Molly Ringwald's diamond in his ear, and thought that one of our companions (Libby) looked remarkably like a Hughes actress--Joan Cusack. It was Libby's birthday so Palihouse's hostess with the mostess Kazu ordered up something that included glazed banana, ice cream, muffin, and chocolate (and perhaps a slice of heaven). We thought we could just inject the fat directly into our thighs, but that wouldn't be nearly as fun.

Leitch took a brief break from the desk to say hello: we asked him what his favorite Hughes movie was and he replied: "16 Candles, no question," before darting back to the decks, as his Charlie Sexton record ran out.

As low-key as the event was, there were a few semi-famous, truly powerful, and actually famous people there, including: Ian Astbury, Rose McGowan, DJ Frankie Inglese, and Tyson producer Nicholas Jarecki.

Despite the overriding 80s theme, few people were dressed for the ocassion; Alex intended to, she was "miffed" that her boyfriend had forgotten her 80s dress, though upon arriving we though it might have been too much. However, at one point, a gaggle of girls in the corner did stand up and do what I can only describe as the "Belinda Carlyle" dance. You know the one: the side to side step with that arms in the opposite direction. White people.

Leitch is back in two weeks at the Palihouse, usually on Wednesday nights spinning tunes ("all vinyl," he said), though we can't promise a John Hughes set next time, though we can secretly hope.

Donovan Leitch spins every other Wednesday at the Palihouse Holloway.