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June 20, 2010

The Post in Which FMWL Mixes Father's Day and Psycho

It's been a family filled six weeks here at FMWL, with a Mother's Day tribute leading into memories of my sister on her birthday and then my own birthday. Now, Father's Day is upon us and the family circle becomes complete.

When it comes to The Fasha and The Mike, movies have never been the king of our castle. That honor belongs to, and shall always belong to, Green Bay Packers football. But beyond our adherence to the Lombardi code (God, Family, & the Green Bay Packers), there have been some fabulous movie moments. I've found many all-time favorites via the man - ranging from his insistence upon John Carpenter's The Thing (which I initially rebuked, but that's a different story...) to the time when he took 8 year old I to see The 'Burbs (which is definitely the movie that triggered the "movies about psycho killers can be fun?" switch in my brain). He even instilled in me a love for Minilla, the Son of Godzilla! But there's one fateful movie experience with dad that has stuck with me for nearly 15 years, even haunting a few dreams.It was a normal week night as teenage The Mike, starving to fulfill his lust for Hitchcock after viewings of Rear Window, The Birds, and Vertigo, plopped down on the cushy leather sofa for his first viewing of Psycho. Opposite he, in his trusty recliner, sat The Fasha, with decades of horror movie experiences in his past.

Now, I've seen a lot of movies in my life, but I feel very comfortable saying that this was the most intense viewing experience of my life. I entered the film entirely blind to what was going to occur, and was on the edge of my seat, enthralled near immediately. I knew something was up with this Bates fellow, and I knew whatever happened would probably shock me. As the film rolled my dad must have come to know this too, because shortly after the shower curtain hit the floor, he looked at me and said ----- wait just a minute --------

(Before I tell you all what he said, I suppose I should make a statement. If you, for whatever reason have not seen Psycho, you should probably do that before reading any further. I really hope that no one reading this hasn't seen it....I mean, it is freaking Psycho...but just in case, THIS IS A WARNING THAT GIGANTIC SPOILERS ARE ABOUT TO BE UNLEASHED.)

Shortly after the shower curtain hit the floor, The Fasha looked at me and said: "You know the mother's dead, right?"

Needless to say, my jaw dropped a bit. This was Hitchcock, mastering his craft, doing something the likes of which I'd never seen in cinema, and with more than an hour of Bernard Herrmann's shrieking score until one of cinema's greatest reveals...the air had been let out of my sails. Dad quickly tried to cover with a "Uhh, I think they say that in one of the sequels", but my level of baffledness had reached a peak.

At this point in my life, as addicted to movies as I am, I would consider ending friendships over a spoiler of this magnitude...though I'm not sure many exist. Can you think of a bigger spoiler? This wasn't some Bruce Willis was dead all along BS, this was the Master of Suspense at his most masochistic. This was a game changer akin to Brett Favre's worst overzealous interception (for me, that one happened in the 2004 playoffs at Philly, but that's a different story too).Looking back, I'm pretty sure that this was the worst thing my Dad ever did to me. But when I consider the possibilities, and all the deadbeat dads I encounter on a daily basis, it's a fantastic reminder of how blessed I've been in life. Psycho isn't any worse because of it - still has to be among my five favorite horror films - and my Fasha's still mega-awesome, even if he might occasionally spend 3 straight hours of a road trip back from Green Bay listening to the same Coldplay song on repeat. (Yes, that really happened. But still, he's awesome.)

The man brought me up to work hard, to love the most noble and storied franchise in professional sports, and to enjoy the crud out of having a laugh (occasionally while scaring Mamada during horror movies - you all should have seen her when he screamed at the final scare at the end of Carrie). We all go a little spoliery sometimes, but that's easy to get past (eventually). Everything else is worth a Happy Fasha's Day, for sure.

And now, the obligatory Creepshow picture, to wish all the great dads out there their own Happy Father's Day! Have some Jell-O Cake!

1 comment:

Jose Cruz said...

Ahh man! No way! I can't believe he ruined it for you. Hahaha but seriously, very entertaining story. If anything, your ability to forgive him for that huge spoiler is a true testament of your love and a great anecdote to share on Fasha Day. No matter who was first, you're still awesome for using that Creepshow pic, period! Great work!