Stay away, Reverend Kane*

Whenever I see a cloud like this, I think of Carol Anne.  Remember that part in Poltergeist when all hell breaks loose and the spindly tree outside Robbie’s window breaks through the glass and grabs him, holding him in its clutches with its limbs?  And the tornado in Carol Anne’s room that sucks her into the closet and, ultimately, into another dimension inside the television with “the TV people”?


Granted it isn’t bedtime and my child hasn’t been staring at the jumbly scrambled tv screen declaring, “They’re heeeeere!” because then I would have to give her up for adoption. 

*People laugh at me because I don’t watch alot of movies and I never catch movie references. However, I believe I was especially traumatized by the Poltergeist movies.  My short-term memory is crap, but if something scared the living bejeebers out of me 25 years ago, I remember it.  Don’t get me started on Freddie Kruger’s knifey fingers in the bathtub, although that movie did encourage me to start taking showers instead of baths.  And I stayed off my parents’ waterbed. (Yes, I do realize that the creepy old Reverend dude didn’t show up until the second Poltergeist movie, but still…*shudder*, he creeps me the eff out).


About Dena

I'm a suburban Clevelander by way of Oklahoma City, by way of North Florida, by way of Southern Maryland, by way of Upper Michigan, by way of Northern Italy, by way of Lower Michigan, by way of Texas. Because of living in so many places, I have something in common with almost everyone I meet. I love reading, writing, and American history (especially reading or writing about American history). I'm interested in culture of place, historical trauma, and writing about the kinds of histories most people don't know about.
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