Lazy Blogging 101

In reading over some correspondence that I have exchanged with a friend, I came across this and thought it might be a good time to recycle it on my blog. I hope that friend will forgive the repeat here. You know who you are.

Since Halloween will arrive soon, and it happens to be one of my most favorite times of the year, I thought I'd reminisce a bit.

Out of the four children in my immediate family, I was probably the most shy as a child. While I loved playing with friends and especially my favorite cousins, being alone in my room with a book didn't bother me in the least. My parents also soon discovered that I enjoyed watching horror movies, alone, late at night. My two older sisters probably thought I was just a weird little kid who was trying to get on their nerves. Sometimes, I was. Mostly though, I just wanted to see a cool old movie.

Halloween was the best time of year for watching horror movies. The three major networks, which were the only channels other than public television that we could pick up, always ran a "Spooktacular" marathon. All of the classic horror movies were featured at that time, one right after another. The Mummy, The Werewolf, Dracula, Frankenstein, The Creature From The Black Lagoon, and of course, anything else the networks could dust off and foist off on their viewers. If Vincent Price, Lon Chaney, or Boris Karloff were in it, I was determined to watch it.

Of course, getting permission to stay up alone and watch a horror movie was not always easy. I had to assure my mother that I would not get scared. Well, of course I would get a little scared, but not so scared that I would ever admit it to anyone. I also had to promise to not make noise and disturb everyone. My dad was the one who usually capitulated first, and then later, would try to scare me by crawling on his hands and knees and then suddenly grabbing my ankle or shouting. He never could surprise me, which I think actually surprised him.

Later in bed, after watching something that didn't really scare me, my imagination would run wild and I would end up scaring myself worse than any movie possibly could. As I lay in bed, I would begin to think about which movie 'monster' I personally considered the scariest and also, which one I would rather have chase me.

Dracula was always at the top of my list of monsters that I felt I could 'reason' with and possibly escape. If I found I couldn't escape and was attacked, I told myself I would be a 'good' vampire. After all, the guy wore a cool cape, and he could change into a wolf, a bat, and a vapor, right? Plus, there was the whole mind-control trick he had. All that would be mine if I were a vampire...a 'good' vampire, that is.

Next, I pondered The Werewolf. What a tortured soul he was. I figured that I really didn't want him to chase me because chances were, he'd just completely tear me to pieces and who wants to go like that? Besides, while changing into a fanged and clawed monster could come in handy some day, it had to be a bit inconvenient at times. My childhood fear of dogs probably figured into this as well. I hoped that should The Werewolf ever actually be after me, I could outsmart him. He was just an animal anyway. Maybe I could get him to chase a stick and then I could run the other way or something. Or I could give him some dog biscuits laced with 'knock-out' medicine. Also, I could use the option of just hiding somewhere safe, like a house, until he changed back.

Frankenstein's monster was a weird combination of pitiful creature and scary monster. I hoped that by being nice to him, maybe he wouldn't hurt me, but then figured I would just have to be fast and run away because he might accidentally hurt me.

The Creature from The Black Lagoon was really not part of my musings. I didn't think there was a chance that he could actually come after me, considering how far way the nearest large lake was from my house.

Ah, The Mummy. This was the one that probably scared me the most. The one who was single-minded in pursuit, and the one who did not appear to ever give up, even if he had to come back the next night. Yes, this monster was the monster I least wanted to come after me. I didn't feel like I could reason my way out of danger, nor did I feel I could just hide until it went away.

So lying in bed, with all of these things running throuh my mind, I would begin to sweat and need to push the covers off. Well, not knowing what exactly might be out in my room or further, in the rest of the house, I couldn't just throw my only protection off, right. No, I had to pull the covers up over my head and then turn on my side and make a small opening near my face so that I could breathe in the blessed cool air in shuddering gulps.

I have never told my dad this but if only he had waited for a few minutes after I had gone to bed to attempt to scare me, he would have had a glorious victory.

Today, I still enjoy watching horror movies. Slasher movies are not really what I enjoy as they are too obvious. The ones I like the best have an element of psychological horror built in, and allow the viewers' imaginations to provide a little of the terror. Something that goes bump in the night, a creaky old house, a mysterious loner, an element of the impossible, all are part and parcel of a good movie for me.

One of my daughters, the oldest, seems to be following in my footsteps and enjoys watching scary movies. Alas, I fear she has jaded herself far too soon by trying to jump into viewing the type of movies that only came along after I had learned to enjoy a somewhat campy classic movie. My youngest, however, is a gentle soul and quickly draws the line as to what she is willing to watch. Hayley can chant, "Tailey-bone, tailey-bone...who's got my tailey-bone!" and Troi will put her hands over her ears and yell, "Mo-oo-m!" One morning, I teased Troi a little and said, "Controlly pad, controlly pad, who's got the controlly pad?" She giggled.

That reminds me of another memory: The Red Skelton Show. At first I liked him because I thought his name was "Skeleton". But then, I grew to enjoy him as the fine comedian and actor that he actually was. "The Fuller Brush Man" was truly a hilarious movie. One time, he was telling a ghost story on his show (or on a special), but I had already been banished to bed even under my protests. When I heard him begin to tell the story of The Golden Arm, I cree-eeped down the hall on my hands and knees and crouched outside the den to listen. He told the tale well and as a result, I had a nightmare later that night. But, I did get to hear the story. I believe my parents knew I was there listening, but for some reason, they acted as though they didn't know.

There are so many fun memories around Halloween for me. It's just an all around fun time for kids and adults like myself. Too bad some people have to try and ruin it by carping on what a demonic or satanic holiday it is. Funny how we went to church every time the doors were opened and yet no one ever told us way back then that Halloween was "of the Devil" and should be avoided. Heck, we even trick or treated at the preacher's house.

That's today's tale. If you kids are good, maybe I'll recycle the Story of the Exploding Egg, or perhaps The Day That Peach Waxed the Bathroom Floor with Vaseline.