Shit! We now live in a Swayze-less world.

It is with deep sadness I announce that at 6:28 this evening, in my Mesa, AZ, home, with my girlfriend at my side, I read an Associated Press article reporting the death of Patrick Swayze. He died of cancer.

As will every account of his death, this article labels "Dirty Dancing" and "Ghost" as the highlights of his acting career, but for me there are two other films that will always be classic Swayze: "Road House" and "Point Break."

In 1989's "Road House," Swayze ruled the Double Deuce bar with his quick fists and even quicker smile--a style of leadership and authority not often found in today's roadside bars. As an adolescent, I found confusion in the wonderful sex scene between Swayze and Kelly Lynch: I couldn't keep track of who was who--they had the exact same hair.

"Point Break" successfully assembled a magical combination of elements to create the perfect film: surfing, rubber masks of former Presidents, a pre-insane Gary Busey, Keanu Reeves jumping out of a plane with no parachute, and an extraordinary soundtrack featuring RATT's timeless "Nobody Rides For Free."

Tonight I mourn the loss of Patrick Swayze, but tomorrow I celebrate the life of Patrick Swayze. And this Saturday afternoon--as with nearly every Saturday afternoon--I will honor the career of Patrick Swayze when I turn on TBS (or TNT) to catch an airing of "Road House" or "Point Break", unless it's one of those Saturdays when Nicholas Cage's "The Rock" is on instead.

Click here to read my other "Road House"-related posts.