There are moments in life when everything suddenly becomes prioritized. What seemed to be of great importance yesterday now is a distant memory and unfortunately this new found perspective is usually the result of bad news. I wish I had the ability to grasp what is really important without an accompanying tragedy. But I suppose only a few can in the fast paced society that so easily takes over our lives.
In early September my mom was diagnosed with cervical cancer. I am not the type who gets overly anxious about bad news because I need to understand all the factors. In my mind there is a fixable answer to everything and nothing is final until every single resource is exhausted. So upon hearing the news from my dad I was concerned but emotionally, very detached.
Almost immediately she was put through a battery of tests and a few were very intrusive. There were also countless appointments with therapists, nutritionists and surgeons to widdle down the appropriate treatment. Most of the tests’ outcome were good but a few were not. Really, until the surgery the long term prognosis is unknown. And at 9am tomorrow she goes in for the surgery.
Still, up until a few hours ago this hasn’t been very real for me. I have been living here in the Northwest thinking that solution for the cancer is an ongoing battle placed in the hands of the most competent professionals that the medical science community has to offer. Everyday I call home to see what the parents are up to and it seems that the days are full of activity and fun and not thoughts of illness. I wanted to fly in for the surgery but they insisted I stay and save my time off for the holidays and now I am wishing I was home.
Today I talked with Mom and she is fasting and drinking a clear liquid that was given to her in preparation for tomorrow. I could hear the nervousness in her voice as we talked not of tomorrow but of Thanksgiving and how excited Dad was over the Redsox on Saturday. Some of the extended family is coming in town later in the week to help out and we discussed whether my 81 year old Grandmother was capable of driving the family Volvo suv around Roswell, Georgia. Then the air of lighthearted conversation turned to the reality of uncertainty.
My Mom and I are not as close as my Dad and I are. We are just very different people in personalities. That doesn’t mean that we fought all the time but being an only child, I would imagine she felt on the outside a lot. These things weigh heavy on my heart now and today when she told me that she was proud of me, that she loved me and that no matter what happens she can be at peace knowing she was the best mother she could be, the cancer became real.
I try to live my life free of hate and regret. These emotions are a waste of time and energy and after a while, they will kill you. But I still feel them. I hate cancer. I hate how it can indiscriminately come and take a loved one away. I hate the fact that I put rational thought before reaching out and being there emotionally. I hate the thought of my Dad wandering the halls of the hospital. I hate the thought of him eating alone in the hospital cafeteria. I regret that I couldn’t wait one fucking hour until my Mom came home from a meeting to leave for Idaho because I was worried I would hit traffic in Knoxville, Tennessee. I can’t remember when I hugged her last.
We got off the phone and I said I loved her very much and there was nothing to worry about. Inside I wanted to burst but right now she needs strength and not weakness. I know that the surgery, while very serious, is not uncommon. Millions of people are survivors and this is a struggle shared by a large percentage of the world. I understand all that but this is my Mom. And the night before an operation, there is a sense that the battle is only fought by the three of us.
So tonight, I think I will sit outside for a while and watch the sky. I always feel a sense of vitality when in nature. I can’t say if I feel closer to God, since I haven’t been very close to him/her in many years. We sort of have an understanding; I live a good life and He/She protects my family and friends. Which now leads me to wonder what I have done so badly that I haven’t already paid for. But I don’t think God is a “tit for tat’ kind of creator.
Sorry that this post isn’t the kind of light and humorous (or sick) post that I usually write. A very good friend of mine recently told me the good thing about a blog is that when you write something, it then becomes real. Almost making your feelings tangible in a way. I say that is true.
SAME? Keeping with the October theme I want to shed some more light on my favorite thing to do this time of year and that is watch horror movies without getting weird looks from friends and family. Trust me, I have watched Jacobs Ladder on Easter morning and got more than a few raised eyebrows. It was my silent protest after spending two hours outside, freezing for sunrise service. But anyway, I do love the frightful TV programs on AMC and The Chiller Channel so much. It is what makes Halloween now that I am an adult. So today I will talk about some of the more memorable scenes, some fellow website pals that do a better job of listing horror favorites and some my odd childhood scares and items that I still hold close to my heart thanks to Tobe Hooper and the like.
MOVIES!
Ho-Boy! The 1981 classic, Ghost Story, isn’t well known to those who are fans of SAW or The Grudge but it will beat them hands down when it comes to the creepy factor. This movie has a little bit of everything for everyone and includes gore shots, boob shots and the controversial full frontal male nude shot. I wasn’t a fan of the penis shot but in a genre full of boobs I guess there should be equality.
The premise of the film is a group of four gentlemen who befriend a young woman and they accidentally kill her… so they thought. In their panicked state they load her body in a car and push it into a lake only to see her scream as it slips under the frozen water. Tormented with grief they vow never to tell about this until they are old men and she comes back to haunt them, taking their lives one by one. Excellent. Plus Alice Krige is super hot in this film, for a ghost. Take a look but please put down anything that can be spilled or dropped (i.e. coffee, tea, water, cat, baby….)
GOOOOO! That’s just great, isn’t it?
Robert Wise 1963 film The Haunting is the creepiest movies of all time and I say the with hesitation. I know in a day full of special effects and gore, the possibility of a black and white film to be of the same scare caliber might seem iffy at best, but it blows any film away. I have seen this countless times and it keeps getting better. It truly holds up and even the remake by director Jan de Bont in 1999 couldn’t touch it proving that the only thing special effects do is remove the viewers imagination. And that is a crime.
This movie was as much psychological as it was supernatural. The camera angles, the inside the head conversations and the muffled ghostly sounds makes The Haunting truly terrifying. Wise hit a home run and please, please watch this clip. This has to be the greatest ghost moments of all times in the cinema and probably made our parents completely sleep deprived for weeks. Enjoy.
Poltergeist. (whistle) Just the name sends shivers down my spine. Who hasn’t seen this Spielberg/Hooper classic? Well if you haven’t, stop what you are doing, go to the movies store and get it. That’s an order. I can’t decide which scene is the best so I’ll just leave you with the trailer. I love the dude’s voice. I have already reviewed the movie here, so, that’s that.
SITES!
Robert Berry’s site, RetroCrush is by far the greatest site on the web when it comes to pop culture. He does an amazing job of archiving, interviewing and listing all things cool from yester-year and today. Recently he made a top 100 horror movie character list and it will have you blowing at least an hour out of the day scrolling through the actors. Even though I would move a few of the characters’ places around, he hit everyone and that takes eminence effort. Stop by and don’t forget to check out his list of the worst Halloween costumes. Hilarious!
Mystie has done some great work when it comes to Halloween reviews for the holiday, both food and cinema. If you haven’t been there it’s a trip down memory lane especially if you are a girl that grew up n the 80’s and 90’s. To me, her snarky sense of humor makes even an article about Polly Pockets fun. What can I say? I’m a fan and she is a very good friend. Click the Crown Combo picture above!
The Flesh Farm is all things great when it comes to archiving, reviewing and sharing clips and trailers to every horror movie available. J.P. Butcher and staff have outdone themselves with this site and I have been a fan for a couple of years now. Be careful when viewing this because there is some language and nudity so it’s not for the office or public computer viewing but when you get home, late at night, it’s a great way to spend the time. I give this site two severed thumbs up! Click the picture above to see what I am talking about.
Oh you didn’t think that was going to exclude X-E from the site shout out list did you? Of course not. It’s not like I haven’t plugged it about 300 times. But Matt is the king of holiday preparation and review so he earns a spot anywhere that Halloween centers as the topic of conversation. Even though the past couple of years haven’t been like the previous in scale it is still the place to go to find out what is hip in the world of spooy treats and decore. You can’t blame him. It’s near impossible to keep 45 days of holiday reviews alive while working full time and having a life. But we appriciate his efforts. Again, click the picture above to visit Matt and all of the X-E cult.
TV SPECIALS!
“You owe me restitution!” Who doesn’t love the classic, It’s The Great Pumpkin, Charley Brown! ? Well besides one person I know. I won’t say who but you know who you are! Anyway, this signifies that Halloween is upon us and much like A Christmas Story, I will never miss this CBS Special that, for some reason, generally lands on a Tuesday night. I haven’t figured that one out yet. This is one of my favorites and no matter how many times I have seen it, it never gets old. My dad has seen it, I have seen it, my kids will see it, their kids will see it, their kid’s kids will see and then maybe an asteroid will hit. So, with that said I am going to go out and bury a copy in an airtight titanium case in the backyard. It must survive.
“‘Arrrr, I been Orange Beard The Pirate Cap’in, and this be me first mate….Odie the Stupid.”
This comes in a close second to Chuck Schultz’s master piece above, but still, it’s a classic. I can’t remember if they aired it last year or even the year before, but I hope so. When I was little I owned all things Garfield and the Halloween special really was close to my heart. Even the pirate ghosts were scary. Ok, ok…are scary. Happy?
COSTUMES!
You see this? When I was 8 I would have sold my soul for this plastic and cloth piece of shit. I begged for it from August to the last week of October. There were so many dreams of showing up to school, dressed in my amazing costume and wielding my deadly fist of blades. But when my Dad finally caved and bought the Freddy Glove, the thrill quickly faded. First off, it didn’t fit. Yeah I was eight and had hands the size of a cellphone but even today, and I still have it, it doesn’t fit. If I had bear paws for hands, maybe, but human hands? So that year I was knight. I love my Dad.
Here’s another one! I saw Halloween II and I knew that I was destined to be Mike Myers for Halloween in 1991. That meant my parents needed to shell out another $25 bucks for latex shit. And it was. The mask above pretty much looked identical and when I was at home looking in the mirror, the realization that I would be the subject of ridicule was eminent. Not only did I not look like “the Shape” but I didn’t even look scary. I looked like a dead Don Knotts. So that is what I went as. I put on a Hawaiian shirt, khaki pants and took off to plunder treats from the neighbors as a zombie Mr. Furley. This was my father’s idea and that makes him uber cool.
CANDY!
Fruit Stripe Gum was always in the Trick or Treat bag and I loved it. It’s too bad that the flavor only lasted 3.2 seconds. I remember that a lady went the cheap route and gave out individual sticks and later on that night it did not pass the parents/customs treat inspection. Still bummed and now that I am an adult and can buy mt weight in Fruit Stripe gum I must say, the thrill is gone.
Here is my second favorite Halloween candy, Spree! Doesn’t the sight of these just make that thing behind your jaw and under your earlobe tingle? Mine does. In fact, one year I ate so many Spree I numbed my tongue out until Christmas. Honest! Moderation is key when it comes to Spree.
OLD DECORATIONS!
Holy Hell! Remember these wall decorations? Tell me these weren’t all over your homeroom walls and windows in elementary school! I remember being truly terrified of the eyeball skull and witch as a child. But back in the early eighties, the folks thought the fright was cute and even tormented me by putting them on the outside of the front door. Do they even make these classics anymore? Or do I have to roam around the neighborhood and steal them off the elderly home’s like I did last year. Am I joking? Maaaaaayyybbbeeee……
Here are some more of the classics. God I love this time of the year! But seriously, that flaming skull still fucks me up.
I apologize about this post. There isn’t really any organized thought process behind it other than just verbal vomit of all things Halloween. But it was fun to write and I hope it was fun to read. Please check out the sites. They do a much better job but then again, they get paid for it. So they should.
I feel pretty fortunate to live relatively close to my parents for the time being. After I turned 18 I pretty much left for 7 years straight except for the occasional holiday and I believe that took a toll on the family because I am the only one they had. I guess youthful indiscretion can be at times better worded as selfishness. But now that I am older I recognize the importance of spending family time even when this happens.
So I am at work, knee deep in superficial issues and figuring out other peoples dilemmas when I get a cellphone call from my Mom. I make a point to not answer personal calls at work but then she called again before the voice mail alert beeped. Maybe it is the fact that there are elderly people in my family and I am extremely paranoid over the well being of my parents, because I broke my cardinal rule and picked up.
“Bill, you need to come home right now”, Mom said in a shaky voice. My heart stopped.
I asked what happened as I frantically made my way to the elevator. There was a long pause and then she quickly said she would call me right back and hung up. As soon as I reached the bottom floor I made my way to the parking deck, my mind racing on every conceivable emergency. Did something happen to my Dad? Did my final Grandparent pass? Did one of my little cousins get ill? What could it be?
Now, I love my Mom but I know that she exaggerates the severity of issues. It’s not her fault, it was just how she was raised. We all have someone in the family that takes a situation and adds a touch of irrational thought and a pinch of panic. That’s her. So as I was driving out the garage I figured unless someone was dead I needed to subtract at least 20% from whatever I was about to be told. And then the phone rang.
I quickly demanded to know what was going on and then Mom said in a voice of pure excitement, “There’s a snake in the garage!”
Yep, there was a snake in the garage and I left every pending issue of corporate importance to drive 30 miles and due battle with a snake. I have to tell you that was a relief. I instructed her to call animal control and I would be there as soon as possible and not to shoo it out herself. If you think Mom would get excited to see a snake I couldn’t even comprehend the story if she was bit. Epic scale my friends.
So she informed me she already called 911. God I wish I could have heard that conversation. I imagine it would have gone like this:
911 Operator:911, what is your emergency?
Mom: There is a huge snake in the garage!
911: Ma’am, can you describe what the snake looks like?
Mom: I don’t know, but it’s walking around on it’s hind legs! Come quick!
So I finally got there after I spent time on the phone consoling my very bothered Mom. I walked into the garage and saw no sign of a snake but I have seen Animal Planet. I know these thing coil in the furthest corners. So I peered over the first place that I would go if I were a snake and I found him. And it was exactly what I feared. A copperhead snake and it was poisonous. Fuck.
I have very bad luck when it comes to handling dangerous or any non-domesticated animals. I am always the one to walk away from a petting zoo with the handlers saying, “So sorry Billy, Danny the Deer has never ran down and bitten someone like that before.” So my chances of getting said snake from the opposite corner of the garage to it’s natural environment without getting bitten was not good. So I did what any guy in a suit with zero training would do. I took two golf irons and picked it up. (don’t do this)
Surprisingly, everything was going smooth. The snake wasn’t flipping out, I didn’t trip, Mom didn’t faint. Nope, 90% of the journey was smooth as silk. Right up to the point I gently put him/her down on the driveway. Then the little bugger did the unexpected.
Every nature show I have seen on TV paints the picture that snakes, when caught and then let go, take off into the wilderness because “it is more scared of you than you are of it”. Bullshit. That little bastard was on the ground for about ten seconds after I laid it down, sticking it’s tongue out with it’s head raised. Then right before I felt a sense of accomplishment it turned and made a beeline right for my leg. (shakes)
I don’t remember how I got to the end of the driveway. I think I miracled myself there. Regardless, that little bastard took approximately 30 dignity points away from me and fused my heart to the base of my throat. Jeff Corwin, suck it.
So we waited until animal control came and it took the guy about an hour to check the entire garage and came up empty. So now the next time I visit the folks I have to be worried about a very pissy foot long snake that wants to bite me. Winter can not come soon enough.
As for Mom, she may never use the garage again. I feel bad that I botched that up but she still made me a sandwich and lemonade. It’s funny that moms have a way of fixing issues through food.
I guess Iam in a little bit of a melancholy mood this evening. It’s been a long day and I find myself, again, in a hotel room far from anything familiar. Really, the funny thing about long periods of solitude without much human interaction is the chance of reflection. So I thought I would listen to some songs on YouTube and reminisce because of course, nothing is closer linked to my memory than songs and soundtracks. But I have to warn you, these are sad songs.
I can really take or leave Bruce Springsteen and it’s not because of his music. Personally I think he is a pompous jerk especially after a 60 Minutes interview where he basically told the reporter he is smarter than the average American and is the voice of the majority. But I digress. His song “My Hometown” is a song that gives me the chills just hearing the intro keyboard. I consider myself to be very patriotic but not in the sense that I feel we need to force the American way on every third world nation. I hear this song and think about kids at bus stops, Dad leaving for work with the hard hat in one hand and lunch in the other. I think about Mom pulling the late shift at the grocery to make a little extra for the family and Friday night football games. This is a reflection of America.
This is going to be a tough one. I’m not the biggest country music fan in the world but Willie Nelson is an exception. He has this bravado about him that I consider more rock than anything else. Perhaps it’s because he sticks it to “the man” by not paying taxes and openly smokes weed. Regardless, after my Grandfather passed, Willie and I became a little closer.
My Grandfather passed away very suddenly from a heart attack and a day later I found myself in Bakersfield, California with the rest of the immediatefamily. Through out that day we did the un pleasantry’s of funeral arrangements and eulogy writing. My poor Grandmother was still bewildered but her selfless spirit never showed pain as she consoled my Father, Aunts and Uncles. As the day became night everyone left to their respective hotels and I was left to sleep in the guest room with only my Grandmother in the house.
The house was busy with every person in driving distance stopping through to pay their condolences. At any given time there was no less than thirty people in a relatively small ranch home so when the last person left the silence was deafening. She and I sat on the couch and watched old British comedies on PBS as the time slipped passed 1 am. Looking at the clock she suggested I retire to bed and she would too after her wine. It was difficult for me to find the appropriate words, but she read my face and insisted she was fine. She would be in bed shortly.
As I layed down in bed I stared at the ceiling and tried to remember my Grandfather in a light that would be positive for the wake. He was a very abrasive person. I can think of more than one instance when he would say “I sure do love you, Goddamn it”. A colleague of his at UC Berkley once said that my Grandfather had to be the bride at every wedding and corpse at every funeral. At least that was partly accurate. Regardless, I did find the good times but that was interrupted by the sound of music from the study down the hall. It was the unmistakable sound of Willie Nelson’s classical guitar. So I got out of bed to see what was happening and found my Grandmother sitting next to the record player with a lap full of letters and pictures. She looked up, half expecting me to be there.
“I guess I wasn’t ready to look at his empty pillow.”
You know, there are a handful of moments in your life that really take your breath away. That was one of mine. I sat next to her as she shared old love letters during World War II when she was stationed in San Fransisco (she was an officer in the Navy) and he was in the Pacific. She also showed me pictures of the family from the 50’s to the late 70’s including a glorious one of my Dad with sideburns and bellbottoms. Everytime the song would end she would ask me to replay it and we would go back to remembering my Grandfather, Bill. This lasted for two bottles of wine and a sunrise.
She died a year later. I never told anyone in the family about our time together. I’ve always looked at my Grandmother as the source that smoothed out the rough wake my Grandfather made. But the time we spent together gave me the chance to know her as elegant, graceful, and strong woman with the dignity that is impossible to come by today. I do miss her and love her so.
When I found this song, “Stardust” by Willie Nelson on YouTube I made it through about ten seconds. I guess even two years later it is too soon for me to hear it. I do ask that you give it a try. It was one of B. Webster’s favorites.
“Into The White” by Cat Stevens (Yusuf) is hands down one of my favorite songs. I think the word beautiful was meant for creations like this. No matter how many times I listen, it never gets old. I even butcher it on guitar and sing but that’s only for my ears. Enjoy this one. I have for as long as I can remember.
Who doesn’t love Jim Croce? Hm? Hm? That’s what I thought. The song “Operator” will always remind me of the time I went cross country skiing with Dad and my Uncle, Brett. I was way too young to cross country ski so I ended up being the whiner of the trip. To top things off I got carsick on the way out of the park too. I actually don’t know why this song brings up that memory. Strange.
Well, that’s as depressing as I want to get. But just to balance things out I will leave you with a joke.
“What do you see when the Pillsbury Doe Boy moons you?”
Casserole of Disaster 
