When I was a kid a rather
stupid movie had a deep impact on me.
It’s called Alligator. It’s from about 1980 – and I reckon
we saw it just a few years
after that. And in it, a pet alligator gets
flushed down the loo. It ends up in the sewer
where the bodies of these giant cats and dogs
have been dumped. Because, you see, some
illegal experiments were being conducted.
So the alligator gets big and bursts up out of the
sidewalk and eats anyone and everyone.
Or something like that.
I spent a year or two walking past the bathroom door
with caution. I’d duck in and put the lid down if
it wasn’t already.
I remember, vividly, asking if it was okay to
sleep in my brother’s room the night we saw
He laughed at me – but let me.
And that sums up a lot of what our
relationship has always been like.
So I decided I had to do something about
this. I got on my bike and went to the
local video store and worked through
the comedy-horrors and the b-grade
shlock and built up to the legendary
franchise efforts from the 70s and 80s,
you know Halloween and A Nightmare On
Elm Street, Friday the 13th and a few
I clocked the game of horror.
I still check in with horror films now
and then but I basically cured my fear
And that’s what happens – really – when
you dig deep on most things. You overcome
first your fear and then your interest.
It’s been the way with me when it comes
to many musical acts, plenty of authors
(especially poets) and other things from
somewhere in the sphere of pop-culture (hello
First the fear, or at least the fascination – and
they’re even closer than they appear in
And then boredom kicks in but you might
carry on for the bragging rights.
Bragging to who though – and about what?
You wasted your time (and back then
your money) to prove something to yourself
so you could one day tell anyone else.
That probably sums up my relationship
with the world in some sense.