So about seven this morning I’m awakened by Brian Blessed shouting “BOLLOCKS!” which is my text alert. It took me about a minute to even process this since the only person who ever texts me is Glinda who should have been on her way to work. Turns out she’s outside, freaking out about the hissing sound coming from the new gas meter/pipes outside. I step out in my tee and undies (Yes, I sleep in a tee and panties, deal.) with my wrist braces still on, listen, hear the hissing and race back inside before anyone else sees me. Promise to find out what’s going on.
Now every other morning since the dawn of time it seems, the gas company has been out here by 7:30 or so, tearing up the street, but today? No sign of them. So finally I call and talk to a woman who keeps asking me to describe the noise. I keep saying “Hissing.” She keeps asking. Says to call back when I hear it again and hold the phone to the pipes so she can hear it too. I hang up, text Glinda that I think it’s okay because nobody seems very worried. She remains unconvinced.
About 8:45 the workers show up to install the meter next door. I race out — yes, I’m actually dressed by now — and ask the guy who I talked to a couple of days ago when the thing was installed. He’s about ten feet away and I say, “Is this thing supposed to be making this noise?” and he knows exactly what I’m talking about. Turns out it’s totally normal; it’s the sound of the pressure being reduced as the gas goes from medium pressure external lines into lower pressure internal ones. So good, we’re not going to blow up today. I email Glinda to that effect. She asks if that came from the crew.
LOL, I thought I was the paranoid one.
Anyway now I’m up. I’m not really what you’d call awake, but I’m up and I keep thinking I should do something constructive. I’m trying to finish a book (3000 words to go) and for a particular reason it’s got to be done this week. But I’m so tired I don’t know that I can think straight.
I stayed up late last night because I got involved watching The House on Haunted Hill which I’d never seen before. A William Castle horror extravaganza, it was one of those big, dopey horror flicks in which there’s not an IQ over 50 in the bunch which is good because if anyone had a brain there’d be no movie. And here’s the thing that really made me want to fling my shoe at the TV: Through the whole film one character spends all his time warning the others about the ghosts. However virtually everything that happens is as a result of human not ghostly action, so when at the end he says “They’re coming for me next.” I’m like “Dude, are you high? You just got told who did the murders and it wasn’t ghosts. Get a grip!”
Why did I start watching? Well I’d caught the last half of The Haunting earlier in the evening, and when that was over,
The Uninvited came on. The Haunting is one of my favorite films, and for my money one of the best horror films ever made. I refer, of course, to the 1963 original with Claire Bloom and Julie Harris, not the horrifically bad remake which turned a wonderful, tight, scary story by Shirley Jacksoninto a nonsensical hack-and-slash fest.
The Uninvited came on right after The Haunting, and it’s been years since I’d seen it, so I thought I’d make a night of it. It wasn’t as good as I remembered, but it was fun. By the time it was over I was pretty much stuck to my chair which was why I stayed up. I very nearly decided to follow up with Dead of Night but common sense prevailed and I set it to record instead. The Innocents was on after that, but I’d seen it recently, and much as I enjoy it, I wasn’t in the mood to rewatch it again this soon.
I think I had a point somewhere along the way about the nature of horror and real-life fear, but I’m not quite remembering what it was, and what I do remember doesn’t seem nearly as profound as it did when I was stumbling around here in my underwear trying to find a number for the gas company. I think the bottom line, for me anyway, is that like any other kind of movie, horror just makes me forget that there is anything bad out there. I suppose that’s why Glinda and I have a pact. If either of us is ever in the hospital dying, the other will make sure that the Lord of the Rings trilogy (And probably The Hobbit) is playing as non-stop as we can manage. If I’m going to go like that, I want to feel as if I’m headed towards Middle-Earth, not some hole in the ground, thank you very much.