When I was growing up, I had a friend who was named after Cher because her mother had been obsessed with the singer. This meant that watching Cher movies became a regular pastime for us. Most kids our age were obsessed with Hocus Pocus and Harriet the Spy; the object of my 8-year-old adoration was the really-not-child-appropriate The Witches of Eastwick. In fact, when my friend had another playmate over, we'd pick our favorite witch and pretend we could make our enemies projectile vomit...
