A Few of My Favorite Spooky Things

I'm gearing up for Halloween, and so I'm thinking about scary movies, books, and costumes. I love being scared. As a kid, my mother let me read and watch quite a few things that I'm surprised she allowed (not that I'm complaining, mind you). I read Stephen King, Dean Koontz, and R.L. Stine and Bunnicula.

As a kid, I ate up R.L. Stine, and I loved Bunnicula. Those books offered just the right amount of fear. But I also read Stephen King at a young age. One of my first King books was The Shining. It scared the poop out of me, and I loved every minute of it. Here was this story about a kid (reading it at that age, I focused on Danny's story rather than Jack's) who was stuck on a mountain with a crazy parent and the devil. Talk about a rough childhood! The sequel, Doctor Sleep, is sitting on my Nook, waiting to be read.

There's an animated movie that, on the outside, looks like it should be a little kids' movie, but in reality, it's actually quite terrifying, and that movie is Watership Down. When I was young, my family had what my dad liked to call a 'fishing camp.' It amounted to a mobile home sitting on a narrow piece of land that backed up to a wide arroyo on one side (this arroyo was large enough for barges and their loads to easily travel). On the other side of the road was a wildlife refuge. Quite a few people owned property there, but it still felt like a desolate place. Add to that the fact that we didn't have a phone, and it felt quite isolated.

So one weekend, while my parents are outside grilling or doing yard work, or something along those lines, I stayed inside to watch a cartoon on TV. That cartoon happened to be Watership Down. Now, I had a pet bunny as a kid. I was (and am) partial to bunnies. Not too many minutes into the movie, one of the rabbits has a disturbing vision. There's blood. Lots of it. And the rest of the movie isn't all that light and fluffy. So I sat there, mesmerized and more than a little horrified, watching what my mother thought was a nice cartoon. Scary as that movie was, it didn't deter me from reading the book years later.

Then there were the horror movies of the 80's that shaped my twisted psyche view on movies and facing fear: A Nightmare on Elm Street, Halloween, Amityville, The Exorcist, The Omen, Friday the 13th. Even horror movies before I was born shaped my life just a wee bit. My mother's name was Rosemary, and so during her visits to the obstetrician when she was pregnant with me, he liked to ask her, "So how's Rosemary's baby?" 

What are some of the books and movies that have sent pleasant chills down your spine?

It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year

My favorite time of year is just around the corner.

It starts in early October with the International Balloon Fiesta. The Balloon Fiesta is touted as the most photographed event in the world. That may or may not be true, but there are certainly plenty of people snapping pictures and filming. If you haven't ever been to the Balloon Fiesta, it's a bit difficult to describe. There are hot air balloons everywhere. They go up in waves, and they're in such cheerful colors. The burners hiss like dragons, and if you stand close enough to one, it helps alleviate the chill in the air. If you get there early enough, you can watch the dawn patrol, which consists of several balloons that take off to assess the wind conditions. They light up the pre-dawn like stars. And then you get to watch the sky turn to gray and then light blue and then the brilliant blue typical of the Southwest as the rest of the hundreds of balloons take off.

And then there's Halloween. It brings out the kid in me every time. Last year I took my son out trick-or-treating for the first time while his father stayed behind to hand out candy. He was a bit apprehensive at first, but when he realized people were giving him candy he got into the swing of it pretty quick. I'm still trying to figure out his costume this year, although I think I know what mine will be. Steampunk My Little Pony, anyone?

After that the holidays come one right after the other. I've always enjoyed the holidays, but celebrating with a young child makes them that much more special. I find myself watching my son's face, trying to memorize every minute expression of joy and amazement as he takes it all in, and I am dying to know what's going on in his mind.

Unfortunately, this glut of celebration makes January and February drag by, and by March I'm antsy for Spring and green, or what passes for greenery in the desert.