Shaun of the Dead will be on Comedy Central in a few days. I'm not sure how I feel about that.
See, when I was a little kid -- nine, maybe? -- my grandfather became very ill. He was in the intensive care unit in a hospital in my family's town, so my brothers and I were forced to go in and see him before he died. It was supposed to give us closure.
I still remember how I stood beside the bed, facing its head, the door out to my right. The light was yellowish and there were windows in the walls, so the staff at the nurses' station just outside could see in.
Grandpa's skin was yellow too. I thought he was dead, and I then realised that if he had died the machines attached to him would let the staff know. Maybe, I thought, he's both dead and not dead.
Mom tells me I had nightmares after that. I don't remember. I just know that I was easily scared as a kid.
Eventually I learned to enjoy horror tropes, even zombies and other undead things. I think I had to, to get over my fear.
So when Shaun of the Dead got released on video, my brother and I knew we had to see it. British + zombie + comedy = win! Right? We decided to make a night of it, renting the movie and then heading out to eat before returning home for the viewing.
When we were almost to his car in the parking lot, my phone rang. It was my other brother. He said Grandpa -- the same grandpa as before -- was dead at the local hospital. We hadn't even known he was re-admitted after being released days before.
I didn't feel up to a zombie movie after that. (Squirt watched it before it was due back, but he's made of sterner stuff than I.)
Now the movie's coming my way again. I'm sure it's great, but at this point I may have too much baggage associated with it to ever enjoy it. Is it even worth the effort, knowing it will dredge up those sick memories?
I didn't watch the movie. It would have felt too strange. Maybe another time.