Ode to Stephen King....

       Thanks to Stephen King I have a phobia of clowns and balloons as well as obscure cemeteries, oh and lets not forget little blonde-headed girls who look at me the wrong way.  I never knew much about him other than he lives in Maine so I decided to research him after watching The Shining for the hundredth time.
        Born on September 21, 1947 in Portland, Maine.  His Father left the family two years later, leaving King's Mother to raise him and his older adopted brother on her own.  As a child he witnessed a friend killed by a train-hmmm....Stand By Me?  I always wondered the origins of that story.  Apparently, he never remembered the details of the incident.
       In 1970 he graduated from  the University of Maine with a BA in English and in the same year his daughter was born.  With selling a few short stories and working odd jobs he struggled financially.  He decided to get his teaching certificate and shortly after was hired at Hampden Academy.  Subsequently his alcohol abuse began and continued on for ten years.
       Carrie was published in 1973 and I recall watching the movie as a child even though I wasn't allowed.  Salem's Lot (I still get the chills recalling the tv miniseries with David Soul) was published in 1975 and shortly after moved his family to Boulder, CO where he birthed the idea for The Shining.  Needless to say his career took off from there.
        His talents don't stop at horror, but he also dabbles in poetry, songwriting as well as comics. Here are some of my favourite quotes of his....

"Get busy living, or get busy dying."

"Fiction is the truth inside the lie."

"I guess when you turn off the main road, you have to be prepared to see some funny houses."

"A lot of us grow up and we grow out of the literal interpretation that we get when we're children, but we bear the scars all our life. Whether they're scars of beauty or scars of ugliness, it's pretty much in the eye of the beholder." 

Thank you Stephen King for being who you are.  

Aurora, CO

Why?

Friday July 20, 2012 7:32am

After my daughter wakes up from her bed, she passes me on the couch as I watch the news.  She notices my tears but doesn't comment.  I murmur a 'Good morning' and my voice cracks.  I sob.  More tears. I need to be strong. She looks at me again, I feel her hesitation before she asks, "What's the matter, Mom?"

Can't she see the images on the tv? The police cars flashing, the dropped popcorn on the side of the road, the blood trail along the sidewalk?  She's ten I remind myself.  I shut the tv off and try to speak, my throat filled with disbelief.  Finally I say, "A man hurt a lot of people last night during the premier of Batman."

"Oh."  She says looking at the ground. "So why are you crying?"

Another sob. Because we planned to see the movie on Saturday in a different theatre in Aurora.  Because I thought about taking you to the midnight showing.  Because so many people will never be the same.  Because of the mom of that six-year old girl.  Because of the man holding up the picture of his son, desperate for any information. Because our worst fears came true this morning.

Instead, I say, "I'm afraid."  It's like 9/11 when I was pregnant with her.  "I'm afraid because there are people out there that want to hurt other people and I can't stop it."

She replies, "I get it."

I shut off the tv and wish I could shut off the images in my head just as easily.  "What do you want for breakfast?"

"Waffles."  She answers with a smile.  "With chocolate chips."

"Okay."  I go into the kitchen to prepare her waffles and hide my tears.