Scary Movies, Move Away

Sunday, I settled onto the couch wanting to just veg while I mapped out the coming week’s blog posts.  I had my coffee, pen, paper and some microwave heated wings leftover from the costume party the night before.  Each of the girls was off doing her own thing, leaving me to my own entertainment.  I turned on the television, hit viewing guide and began to scan my choices.  Usually, there’s an NCIS marathon, or Law and Order: SVU, some type of criminal mischief to be solved by any number of franchises out there.  However, the Sunday before Halloween was a movie marathon of horror.  Not just on one channel, mind you; oh no, it was on every channel.  Friday the 13th.  Chucky.  Nightmare on Elm Street.  They were even broadcasting the making of the Nightmare movies.  I either had to settle for frightening viewing or football, which to me is the opposite of frightening; it’s boring. 

I know there are vast numbers of individuals who thrive on having their wits scared senseless, and as much as I love scaring the heebie jeebies out of people, you would think that I would be in that number.  I’m not.  It’s not about the blood, either.  We usually watch shows like Criminal Minds or Bones while eating dinner, which usually has blood and disemboweled bodies throughout.  We sit there munching away, unbothered by the gruesome mess on the screen.

It’s also not the horrendous murder scenes.  I’ve sat through Jaws and Jurassic Park, rooting for the animals as they ripped off human appendages, using the bones as toothpicks.  I’ve sat through war movies where bullets did the same damage.  None of that bothered me.

No, it’s none of those things.  What keeps me from being a horror movie buff is the intense scare factor. Some love that feeling, the quickening of the heart rate, tensing of the chest and rabid breathing.  I don’t.  I won’t walk through a haunted house for the exact same reason.  I prefer calmness in my life and a steady, normal heart rate.  I choose not to go to places or watch movies that are going to disrupt that normal, peaceful beat; I choose not to ride roller coasters for that same reason.  I hate the feeling it gives me.

I love decorating for Halloween, the scarier I can make the decorations, the better.  However, that’s as far as I want to go in the realm of fright.  I want it predictable and on my terms.  Life itself has enough scary, unpredictable things about it to go looking for more.  I’m not criticizing those who enjoy that feeling and go in search of it.  We all have those things we get a thrill from.  However, for me, this isn’t one of those things.

I have friends that are into zombies and related gore, and I’ll admit to having to write the occasional death scene between Rhychard Bartlett and the demons of the Void.  Yet, I prefer to deal in life. I want the rush of dealing with the living, not having the life scared out of me.  There is enough evil without looking for it.

After finding all of my normal viewing delights usurped by horror fest, I went to the 8-year old’s favorite channels and became lost in the silly antics of animated cartoons.  I had more fun laughing than I would have cringing behind the sofa pillow, and I felt better for it.  Here’s to laughter.  Here’s to the living.

* * * * *