Like every other thirteen-year-old girl at the time, I fell desperately, hopelessly, eternally in love with Patrick Swayze in Dirty Dancing. Now it appears that, at age 55, he's got pancreatic cancer. His doctors sound optimistic, but as far as I know the five year survival rate on pancreatic cancer is statistically indistinguishable from zero. What a tragedy. I will spare you the maudlin recollections of my own mortality that this spawns, but I imagine I'm joined in them by millions of American women.