“It’s not who you go with, honey. It’s who takes you home.”
When I started recording B-Movie Bonanza again, I promised myself I’d post at least one new episode per week and, for the most part, I’ve stayed true to that promise. At the start of 2017, however, my motivation has been lacking. I can’t see how anyone can be motivated to do much of anything when we’re clearly at the dawning of the apocalypse. News reports over the weekend are clear proof of that. But I’m not (much of) a political person and this was never intended to be a safe space to talk politics, so let’s get on with the blood n’ guts.
I’m sure this will shatter your impression of me (damn, there goes another Sarcaz-O-Meter), but I was not at all popular in high school. Didn’t have many friends. Spent lunch periods in the library reading books, or in the computer lab penning pretty pathetic R.L. Stine copycat manuscripts. Extra-curricular activities were limited to one, Drama, and that’s only because I harbored some ridiculous delusion that I’d one day be a professional actor. That dream died a quick and painless death when I saw a VHS recording of one of my shows. Good thing it was the final show of my senior year, otherwise I never would’ve had the nerve to take the stage again—and I sincerely doubt anyone would’ve blamed me.
Seeing as how I spent most of those four years on my own, I’m sure it’ll come as no surprise that come prom night, I wasn’t within ten miles of the venue, which, much to my surprise, was not our school gymnasium. I’d seen dozens of teen-oriented movies that revolved around this rite of passage, at least in some way, so it was more than a little jarring when I discovered there wouldn’t be crepe paper strung along the basketball hoops, or tin foil-wrapped stars draped from the ceiling. And, much to my chagrin, there was no prank-gone-awry which sent the student body fleeing for cover. If that had been the case, I might’ve made the effort. On the night of the event, I was probably curled up in bed, revisiting one of my favorite slasher movies for the 7,000th time.
Admittedly, I have more than a few regrets in life, but not attending my high school prom isn’t one of them. I wasn’t a joiner. I sure as hell wasn’t a leader. As clichéd as it may sound, especially since I ended up a professional writer (though one never would’ve guessed judging by this less-than-stellar piece), I marched to the beat of my own drum. I lived vicariously through characters both on the screen and on the page. Can’t say I’m better for it. It’s just the way things turned out, and there’s sure as hell nothing I can do about it now. Womp womp.
For this episode, I used the Blu ray edition of Prom Night, running 1:32:44, so if you’d like to come along for the ride, pop it in and feel free. Think I'll dig out my old high school yearbook and re-read the endless pages of non-existent signatures.