“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.
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