AMITTYVILLE AT HALLOWEEN

I read The Amittyville Horror story years ago but don't recall much of it now. I've read many Stephen King novels and while It was the scariest for me, the book that was his grossest was the one where the fan of the author made him write her a story while she took care of him after a car had run him over. The name escapes me now, but it might have been Misery. It's where she tortures him physically. Where blood abounds. And I don't like blood.

Bloody ER's and giving birth scenes are as bad to me as seeing some hot shot director spray blood all over the place. Blood's blood and it doesn't matter if it's the old movie Prom Night or Carrie, it doesn't appeal much to me. My own blood or a family member's blood doesn't spook me; it's just something, obviously I'd rather not deal with. The only exception is baby tooth extraction. I always like to pull my kids/grandkids/friends kids' baby teeth. (You better watch out, Grant; I heard you have a loose one.)

Once in Florida, I had rented one of the aqua trikes for 30-minutes. I pedaled and one of our kids rode and enjoyed it. For about 10 minutes. Me, too. But then I started thanking my lucky stars I hadn't chosen the other option of a one-hour rental. When we finally returned to the beach, I met a dumb walker who wouldn't move to get out of the way. I turned hard so as not to hit her and caught my index finger in the place where the handlebars meet the separation point.

Pain. It was very similar to catching your finger in a door. As I pulled the handlebar away to free my finger I saw blood soaking through the other side. I turned my paw over and sure enough, I'd smashed it pretty good. I wore a black fingernail on that hand for awhile.

I haven't rented an aqua trike since. And it wasn't even close to Halloween when I might have appreciated the blood somewhat.