Suburban Legend

Growing up as a kid I was afraid of a ton of stuff.  You tell me a scary story and I would manifest it into existance nightly.  I can recall being afraid of the dark my entire life – the not knowing what was out there… because it was dark, you know.  I think I would have chosen SEEING my attacker/bludgeoner/killer tomato before being attacked.  Nothing sucks more than sitting there afraid, in the dark, and then being attacked by some unknown “thing”.  I think anyway.  I was never attacked, no matter how much I thought about it.

Growing up in Birmingham Alabama, I watched a decent amount of television.  Actually I recall watching very little television – but what I did watch was scary.  A few things that haunted my inner eyelids:

The images of Bruce Banner changing back from the incredible hulk.  He had those multiple staged process he went to go from green and mean to Brucey again.  The one that looked like an inbred asthmatic whose eyes were popping out of his head (kind of like Arnold at the end of Total Recall… only greener).  I’d run out of the room and wait for the ringing background transformation music to end.

The Electric Company – any episode with the vampire, werewolf and Frankenstein.  I would have to admit that NOW Morgan Freeman is cool and can do no wrong, but back when I was learning how to run in fear – he was an evil man.  I would hide under the kitchen table until it was over.  I relied on my other family members to tell me when they were done with those skits, and I think they took advantage of that.  I remember being under the table a long time, and the show was only a half hour long.

Fembots from Steve Austin/Six Million Dollar Man/Bionic Woman.  “Kill Oscar” and the robot sequels to follow were sheer maddening to me as a child.  I loved me some Bionic Man, I even had the Bionic Grip Action Figure, space shuttle ship thingy, Big Foot, and even the Oscar Action Figure itself!  But the first time I saw them rip the face off a woman robot and the speaker mouth sat there… diodes and high-tech (for the time) stuff – I lost it.

Poltergeist.  My parents knew I hated the clown scene.  Little boy goes to sleep, all snug in his bed.  His sister’s already been sucked into a closet and taken into the light… lets let our boy sleep alone in a huge room… right across from the same closet!  He sees the happy clown doll sitting in a chair or something.  the boy closes his eyes, blinks, and looks around.  Said clown is gone.  Looks under the bed, nothing, looks over to the other side of the bed, nothing… looks up, DAMN big scary clown doll… no longer happy, wrapping his growing arms round the boy!  So what do my parents get me for Christmas?  A stuffed monkey doll/puppet with long ass arms.  That bastard sat at the foot of my bed for about two years, but his arms and legs were tied to the bed frame.

Then of course there was the non-television items that freaked me out.  “Bloody Mary”, thanks to my sister.  I have a great idea for a fun game with your younger sibling!  Take them into the bathroom, shut off the light, light a candle and start spinning around in circles – chanting “Bloody Mary”.  This is the same sister who would melt gummy bears on a spoon in the microwave.  She was a great baby sitter.

Anything from under the house making noises.  Little scratches occasionally.  I knew it was some skeleton that had been buried there years before, trying to scratch his way through the floor boards.  Damn undead!

Anything in the attic making noises.  I used to complain about a honking sound coming from the attic.  The crawlspace was right outside the door to my room.  But the sound was coming from above my closet.  It would rotate from a honking to a humming.  Finally one day in the daytime my mother heard it too, and had no clue what it was.  Later we found out that there was a bees nest around that area in the attic… but they go dormant at night mostly… right?

…And anything to do with ghosts.  I am not a fan of ghost pictures.  Faces of passengers in cars at the cemetery, etc.  Screw that.  If some Patrick Swayze style ghost wants to come and haunt me, or send me a “message” – please don’t.  I’d rather you be quiet and invisible and me not know you are here.  I’m serious.  Cause I am crazy enough to kill me, and come over and kick your ass.

So anyway, I am still pseudo afraid of the dark.  I have a great imagination that seems to dwell and dabble in the dark and zombie-ish.  Not that I dig zombies… my brain just keeps delving there.

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