When I was a little kid, my dad and I went to the movies together, often. We watched adventure films like Bullitt and Grand Prix and The Hellfighters – which explains why I won’t have gas appliances, pretend the hot water heater’s a dragon living in my attic and insist only my husband can feed it, and wouldn’t let anyone pass an 18-wheeler on the highway for years.
My grandparents took me to movies, too – from the amazing films like The Sound of Music and Dr. Zhivago to the disturbingly funny Herschell Gordon Lewis flick, Blood Feast. Who takes a six year old kid to a drive in theater at night to watch Blood Feast?? I’m betting my grandparents didn’t have a clue what the movie was about, until it was too late. I don’t know – it was scary and had something to do with Egypt? To be fair, that would be exactly the sort of logic that would lead them to think it was right up my alley.
Thanks to that movie, I crossed to the far side of the street when I saw garbage trucks, and still cringe to watch the compactor operating. And that was the part of the movie we all cheered over.
I remember odd snippets of bad, unmemorable movies. Which brings me to one important point: If you take your children to see horror movies, make sure they’re memorable. It’s the disembodied, half-remembered, easily conflated snippets that are the worst.
I watched one in Daytona Beach, in the 1970s, and could only remember that it was “something like Frankenstein, and had this woman who wore a ribbon around her neck so her head wouldn’t fall off.”
Not exactly. But I was highly amused to learn I wasn’t the only one who remembered it that way: I Have A Memory About A Horror Film In Which A Woman Has To Wear A Choker To Keep Her Head On And Someone Finds Out About It. It’s An Older Film And I Would Like To Know The Title Of It.
Took all of three seconds to confirm that it was the same movie. Imagine my relief, on watching it again (via Amazon Prime), the other night, to learn that it was the surgeon’s stitches – the healed sinew and skin – that was keeping Jane Seymour’s lovely head atop her shoulders, and only some serious yanking and twisting by The Creature could part her from it.
I peeled off what was left of the clear window bandage they’d given me, in the hospital, and now have to resist the temptation to pull the loose couple of inches of stitch that’s poking out. I’m about 92% sure I won’t come unraveled – I could just snip it with the toenail clippers – but still… my f/u with the doc is tomorrow morning. I can behave that long.
I did notice, when the dressing was still damp, that there are several deep blue-black X’s beneath the Steri-Strips. I must speak to the surgeon about this; a good pirate never makes the location of the buried treasure so obvious.