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I love my Dad, but growing up we didn't have a lot of things in common. He was the first one to admit that. He'd support whatever I was interested in, but he never really understood it and couldn't really talk about it with me. I wasn't into sports, I was a band geek, and I read a lot. My Dad at that point probably hadn't read a book since high school, watched football every Sunday with my Mom, and loved rock music but not the kind of music I was playing in school. But as I got into middle school I got into horror movies. I don't know why exactly. The horror aisle at our local rental store had terrified me as a kid. They had a giant carboard cutout of Chucky from Child's Play 2 there, and I had nightmares about him cutting my head off like that jack in the box he was attacking on the poster. Sometimes I'd build up the fortitude to look at the movies themselves, only to be scared off by that hologram Jack Frost cover or the Dead Alive cover. I imagined the plots of all these movies to be infinitely more horrific than they really were. But something clicked at some point, maybe as I started to get interested in how movies were made. I started watching movies and even bought myself an Army of Darkness t-shirt, which I had to turn inside out at one point because a kid at school claimed it was Satanic. Anyway, my Dad never seemed to a "movie buff". We'd do family movie nights, sure, but he never really talked about his favorite movies or anything like that. But one night I was sitting on the couch, about to head back to bed, when my Dad was flipping around on TV. "You ever see Night of the Living Dead?" I hadn't. I was still young, I still thought black and white movies were "boring", and I hadn't even heard of George Romero yet despite living 15 minutes away from the mall in Dawn of the Dead. So I told him I'd watch it with him. It was one of the best nights of my childhood. Dad and I basically watched the movie in complete silence. I was shocked at what I saw, both the level of violence I wasn't expecting from a black and white movie and the idea that a movie could have a deeper message. At the end of the movie I just started gushing about it, how crazy it was and how the ending of the movie made me feel. My Dad went on to explain how they did some of the special effects, the fact that it was filmed extremely close to us, and even rewound it to show a specific zombie that was a guy he went to high school with. loving awesome. I've watched a lot of horror movies with my Dad since then (including an amazing night watching Paranormal Activity where my Dad thought it was a real documentary), but this will always be the most important movie memory to me. It's one of the first times I started thinking of my parents as people with interests and lives, and it helped turn me into the horror junkie I am today.
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Mar 13, 2020 18:16
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MacheteZombie posted:I want to thank every one that contributed again for taking part! Thank you so much!!! I really enjoyed writing this up, it felt kind of cathartic especially being in quarantine and having not seen my Dad for a few weeks. I don't have Platinum though, so no DMs. Can I email you my address?
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Apr 6, 2020 14:19
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