Oh, the horrors: Movies most scary...to me

Happy Halloween!

In honor of the holiday, I thought I'd share with you the movies that have most scared me over the years (in approximate order of viewing):

The Birds (1963) — I remember watching this in the house we lived in when I was born, so I was likely under the age of 5. I recall it being around Christmas time, as there were homemade ornaments hanging in the pass-thru from kitchen to family room (or wherever the TV was) and without explanation, the ornaments fell during one of the more intense moments. I've been frightened of huge flocks of black birds and egg-carton ornaments ever since.

The Child Molester (1964) — This incredibly grisly "educational" film was shown at school during my early years and I will never, ever forget the bloody shoe floating down the stream. (And my girls wonder why I was such a paranoid mother.) I looked for the name of this movie for this post and found the whole scary thing posted HERE. Beware: You'll never again look at children's shoes the same way.

Chamber of Horrors (1966) — How could anyone, especially a youngster, not be afraid when the Fear Flasher and Horror Horn made it oh-so clear that it was the only appropriate response for what was to come?

House of Wax (1953) — My introduction to Vincent Price. Likely one of the "Creature Double Feature" flicks on Saturday nights spent with older cousins in Wisconsin.

Crowhaven Farm (1970) — I told you in this post how the sound of rocks being stacked scare the cuss out of me because they sound like the ones stacked by the coven of witches in Crowhaven Farm. I think of this one often, as we have lots of rocks on our property...and seem to stack them on a fairly regular basis, for some unknown reason.

Sisters (1973) — Siamese twins and Brian de Palma were forever linked in my head after this. Oh, along with putting on panty hose, just like the crazy sister in the barn loft. Gah...!

Picture Mommy Dead (1970) — For this post I finally figured out the name of a movie that has haunted me for years and years, especially every time I heard "the worms crawl in, the worms crawl out, in through your stomach and out your mouth." Imagine my surprise when I realized Zsa Zsa Gabor was part of the horror. Yep, it's true. And still scary to me.

The Exorcist (1973) — I was often sick as a child. I remember being quite ill with pneumonia at the time this movie came out. Up in my room in the old farm house, I'd be falling asleep to the sound of the radio when—AH!—the commercial for The Exorcist, with its chilling music, would come on and make me want to run downstairs or scream, but I couldn't do either because I was so freakin' sick. Years later I actually watched the movie...and had my fears validated.

Audrey Rose (1977) — Anthony Hopkins, reincarnation, burning alive. Need I say more? Okay, I'll say a little more. Not too long ago, I watched this with Jim and my then teen daughters. They've made fun of me ever since for recommending as "one of the scariest movies ever" this campy Exorcist rip-off. It really was scary the first time. Honest. At least when you're young...and a big chicken.

Carrie (1976) — Yes, it was truly scary. And I'm not the only one who thought so. And not just the first time you watch it. Honest. I still think of it often...and actually just last week told Jim as he was leaving for work one day, "They're all gonna laugh at you." (Yep, that's the kind of joy involved in being my spouse.)

The Shining (1980) — I have twin siblings, and the creepy twins at the end of the hallway were just a small part of it. Supposedly having happened in my home state was a big part of it. Funny thing, I've now been to the hotel that inspired the story—The Stanley Hotel—many times, including when they were remaking the film into a TV series and for two ghost tours.

The Entity (1982) — I was a brand-new mommy who spent a lot of time alone with my baby as Jim worked his butt off to support us and the idea that the story of a malevolent spirit beating and raping a woman was supposedly true was more horrific than my hormones could bear at the time. I used to bring Brianna, in her infant seat, into the bathroom with me while I showered just so I wasn't alone.

Blair Witch Project (1999) — I didn't watch that many scary movies between the one above and this as being a mother of three daughters was frightening enough. But the year this came out, I took my teen daughters to see it one afternoon during spring break. It was more nausea inducing than scary. Until a week or so later: I was out on our deck in the middle of the night watching for shooting stars when I scared myself by thinking of the movie. I set out to run back into the dining room through the open screen door...only the screen door wasn't open and I mangled it as I dashed through anyway, determined to escape whatever may have lurked in the dark.

There were other horror flicks throughout the years, but these have been the most memorably scary for me.

I do still enjoy watching scary movies. Scary ones, though, not disgustingly grisly and twisted ones like the "Saw" movies and such. For the most part, I don't get as scared by them as I used to.

I just no longer go out on the deck in the middle of the night by myself anymore.

Photo: Wikimedia Commons

Today's question:

What movies were most scary to you?

Wild geese

Wild Geese

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.

~ From Dream Work by Mary Oliver

Today I'm on the lookout for that announcement, the one letting me know of my "place in the family of things."

photo: stock.xchng

Today's question:

What are you on the lookout for today?

Hug-ease for boys

Hugging our favorite boys is one of the highlights for PawDad, Aunt B, Aunt Andie and myself each time we have the pleasure of seeing Bubby and Baby Mac.

When they visited last month, the hugging went far beyond just our little clan, though, as the boys were blessed with abundant squeezes from extended family and more.

Bubby and Baby Mac appreciated—or, in some cases, at least endured out of obligation—the hugs from each and every hugger. It was pretty darn clear, though, that Great Aunt Debbie was their favorite hugger of all, the one with whom they were most at ease:

While I don't like to play favorites in any way, I must agree with their assessment: My sister Debbie is indeed one of the very best huggers around.

Today's question:

If you could hug only one person today, who is most in need of your hug?

Name changer

When I named my daughters, I didn't put much thought into what each name meant. With each one—Brianna, Megan, Andrea—I simply liked the sound of the name or that the name reminded me of people who warmed my heart. I'm not sure I even looked up what the names meant. If I did, I don't remember the meanings and never put much stock in them.

That's not the case with Indian names. I recently learned through a variety of news reports that Hindi names are indeed chosen according to what the name means—and that two names have become popular of late, despite having meanings destined to break the hearts and spirits of those to whom the name is given.

The names are "Nakusa" and "Nakushi," which mean "unwanted." Girls in India are often given one or the other of those names because they are unwanted, as Indians openly discriminate against daughters and often hope to only bear sons.

An Associated Press report I read Sunday says the recent Indian census shows the sex ratio of those under age 6 as 914 girls to every 1,000 boys. According to the AP story:

"Such ratios are the result of abortions of female fetuses, or just sheer neglect leading to a higher death rate among girls. The problem is so serious in India that hospitals are legally banned from revealing the gender of an unborn fetus in order to prevent sex-selective abortions, though evidence suggests the information gets out."

It seems sons are favored because while it can be quite expensive to marry off daughters, sons and their families benefit when marrying because they end up with elaborate dowries. Also, only sons can light the funeral pyres of their parents. Hence, if a daughter is born, parents—even grandparents—have no qualms about saddling the little one with a title making it clear she wasn't wanted, and there's no celebration in her arrival.

Such things break my heart. As a mother of only females and a grandmother of only males, I celebrate both sexes.

Today, though, I celebrate one male, a man I've never met and surely never will. For this one man, Satara (India) district health officer Dr. Bhagwan Pawar, was so moved upon discovering the plight of those young Indian girls marked as "unwanted" that he immediately set out to make it right.

This past Saturday, thanks to the efforts of Pawar, nearly 300 young girls participated in a renaming ceremony that allowed them to shed the names of Nakusa or Nakushi and become known going forward names of their own choosing. Many opted for names of Bollywood stars, Hindu goddesses, or ones with meanings such as "very tough" or "prosperous, beautiful and good." I can only imagine the sense of pride and newfound purpose each girl felt as she received her certificate legally announcing her new name.

In a society accepting of such blatant discrimination of females, Pawar certainly wasn't obligated in any way to provide the girls with an escape from the horrid names their families had given them. But he did. Because of his selfless act, I have no doubt those girls will not only forever appreciate their new names but Pawar's name as well. I imagine that to them, the name Bhagwan Pawar will forever going forward mean "the one who made me feel unwanted no more."

I know that for me, the name Bhagwan Pawar will forever going forward mean "honorable"...and "the one who did the right thing."

Photo: stock.xchng

Losing one's cool

Megan attended parent-teacher conferences last week, learning all about how Bubby is doing in his three-year-old preschool class. As the teacher went through Bubby's progress report, she pointed out that one of the areas in which Bubby and his classmates are working hard is "problem solving."

The teacher proceeded to tell Megan that she's focusing intently on problem solving with the entire class, teaching them techniques for diffusing situations in which it's easy to lose one's cool. Stepping back and counting to 10 before reacting is one of the many techniques she's stressing with the youngsters.

The other day Megan called me to say that Bubby was in the throes of a "meltdown." Contrary to his ever-cool presence in photos I post on this blog, Bubby does indeed lose that cool occasionally and suffer true meltdowns. As all three-year-olds do. Often. Which is likely why problem solving is a big part of the curriculum in the three-year-old class.

The meltdown was not news and not the reason Megan was calling. Bubby's handling of the meltdown was the news.

Megan reported that she and Bubby had been disagreeing about something or another, when Bubby started acting like, well, a three-year-old. So she sent him upstairs to his room to calm down until he could act more appropriately and make better choices that didn't lead to his irrational behavior. (She likely used more child-friendly terminology, but that's the gist of it.)

Bubby angrily huffed up to his room. Just before Megan called, she said, she couldn't help but laugh out loud at Bubby's reaction to being sent to his room. "I actually LOLed, Mom," she said. Because once Bubby was in his room, Megan could hear him ranting and raving. Then he'd quiet down and all she'd hear is him counting. "1...2...3...". Then he'd YELL again, quickly followed by a return to the counting once more. "1...2...3...".

At the time of the phone call, Bubby still hadn't reached 10, still hadn't resolved his issues, still hadn't solved his problem.

But he was trying. And proving that even at three years old, stepping back and counting before flying off the handle does indeed make a difference.

(Even if that difference is simply instigating actual LOLing from Mommy.)

Today's question:

What problem-solving technique do you use to keep your cool when angry?