The bejesus

Once upon a time, quite some time ago, before Turner Classic movies or even TBS and TNT, The Wizard of Oz was shown on TV only once a year, on a Sunday. I think it was around Easter time. One week was Oz, the next Sunday was The Ten Commandments. One thing was guaranteed on Oz night. Either Jan or Dick had to come calm down their screaming child, who awoke in the middle of the night after being chased by winged monkeys and green-faced witches.

That screaming child was me.

They probably drew straws before putting us to bed, knowing that in a few hours, I would be howling. It was as annual an event as the showing of the movie itself. And yet, I watched it every single time.

I thought about that last night while I was watching Dexter on my newly acquired Showtime (in all of its TV-M glory). As I watched Dexter slice the cheek of his restrained captive, I thought, "I really should not be watching this so close to my bedtime."

But I couldn't change the channel. For some sick reason, I can't stop scaring the bejesus out of myself. If there is a suspenseful movie on, I am compelled to watch, knowing full well it will haunt my dreams.

It's just a movie, blah, blah, blah. Well, I have been "blessed" with a very vivid and active imagination that will sometimes not be quiet. I have laid in bed, terrified a guillotine blade was going to drop from the ceiling after watching a special on Nostradamus. I did not get one second of sleep the night we watched Copycat, as every creek of the house, every rustle of branches outside was a crazed killer trying to break in. And, my sister was a heartbeat away from a face full of Lysol when she came home late the night I had watched the original Helter Skelter.

I still remember the look of dread on my mother's face when I told her I had watched Psycho at my friend Jennifer's house. I knew she was imagining me waking up screaming in the middle of the night. Nope, I just made sure to bolt the bathroom doors when I was in the shower. Which I did until I went to college.

Don't even get me started on Jaws. The first time I saw it, I was terrified to stick my toe in the lake, let alone the ocean. Now, it's one of my favorite movies, and I watch it every time it's TV. It was on last Thursday, and I kept flipping back to it during the season finale of Grey's Anatomy.

Which is a whole other thing. I can't watch the gore stuff. Can't stand the sight of blood. So there are times where I can't watch ER or Grey's. But give me a 10 p.m. airing of Psycho, and I'm all over it. Maybe I'm not as scared of it because I know what's going to happen. But I still jump when that shower curtain whips open. And the ending is still unnerving (on a side note, I am referring to the original Hitchcock movie, NOT the remake).

And while I watch Jaws all the time, and appreciate it for the genius piece of film making that it is, the idea of it still freaks me out. When I am in the ocean, I make sure there are people out farther than I am, so they will get eaten first, and I'll have time to get out of the water. I don't use a raft or a float, because that makes you look like a seal underwater, and I don't want to end up like that little Kintner boy. And if something touches me underwater, I will climb on the head of the person next to me to get out of the water.

I may like to scare myself when I'm on the sofa, but out in the big ocean, why take chances that my imagination is actually real.