In my blog on travel, I mentioned my love of horror films and said I'd post a video.
It's a long shot, but some of you may remember an email I sent out a while back. On or around July 24, 2009, actually. If you knew me then, I'll refresh your memory; if not, the story's the same.
May, two years ago -- We went to Lake Buchanan out in Burnet for my birthday. It was such a great time. Very quiet, very country, very uneventful and small town. Not knowing much about Burnet, I should say those were the characteristics of the town at that particular time and place. Maybe it's different around other corners or when seasonal events bring out the locals and tourists. I was thrilled to just be in the moment, appreciate the vibe, and enjoy nature.
I was so taken with the experience that I sent out the email I speak of, describing my impression. Along with my story, I attached an image (top photo) that was published on the Texas Highways' website. If you're a visual person you may recognize the photo or, if you're a horror movie fan, you may recall the email because I said I'd share a video I took with you another time and that it set the scene for a great horror movie. When I watched it for the first time, all I could think of was the brilliance of movies like Friday the 13th and Halloween, slasher films, and B-movies.
I've tweaked the wording of the original email a little bit to satisfy my soul but alas, the infamous email:
Since I haven't been quite the global nomad I used to be, I love going on adventures to explore places closer to home. The landscape in Burnet meshed tall grass with cacti. The sunset warmed the land and reflected across the water. It felt like nothing anybody in the world could ever know. Each Hill Country town we passed through along the way was simple, quiet and dotted with bikers on the winding roads. Burnet is like the Amalfi Coast of Texas -- each little town is strung together by the same thread, but it's somehow a little different from the one beforehand.
There aren't many places to stay out there that don't look like you're on location at a COPS episode so I finally surrendered to the chosen and quaint little B&B. It was a one-story motel right off of a narrow road that was some sort of thoroughfare for bikers and guys in pick-up trucks. Not only was the motel owned and operated by a small family, but it was also their home. It was home to various people and families. It was also a storage facility. And "smells like meth", as Mike said.
We checked in with a young woman whose stringy, dirty blonde hair was clumped together in greasy sections. There was also an older woman who appeared to be her grandmother. They sat at the front desk and watched TV. Behind the front desk, there was a door that connected the lobby to their private rooms and I could briefly see two men moving around in the back. Eventually, and at different times, both men suddenly appeared in the connecting doorway, lifted the hinged countertop and came through the front to relax and drink beers outside. The young girl behind the counter complimented Mike's perty hair while scrambling after the children sprawled out around her and her grandmother.
We checked in with a young woman whose stringy, dirty blonde hair was clumped together in greasy sections. There was also an older woman who appeared to be her grandmother. They sat at the front desk and watched TV. Behind the front desk, there was a door that connected the lobby to their private rooms and I could briefly see two men moving around in the back. Eventually, and at different times, both men suddenly appeared in the connecting doorway, lifted the hinged countertop and came through the front to relax and drink beers outside. The young girl behind the counter complimented Mike's perty hair while scrambling after the children sprawled out around her and her grandmother.
That afternoon we hiked around the lakes, spotted lots of white-tailed deer, took lots of photos, and just enjoyed our time together. After dinner and drinks at Spokes that night, I started to take video of the long, one-story building as we pulled back up to the motel. I mentioned this place was a motel, storage facility, and home to people we never saw (other than the family who owned and managed the property). So, like you'd see in suburban neighborhoods, some of the front doors had decorations hanging over the peep holes -- welcome wreaths, wooden ducks, and red-white-and-blue ceramic cowboy boots stuffed with plastic bluebonnets.
It's dark and Led Zeppelin is playing on the stereo, there's camera shake and you can hear gravel crunching underneath the car tires. You see colorful vintage 1950's shellback metal lawn chairs flashing by, a vending machine, a sharp turn, me squeaking hysterically -- the perfect prelude to a mangled killer jumping in front of our car with a huge machete in one hand and a woman's head dangling from the other, her blonde hair tangled around his huge, filthy fingers.
We went to our room and had a night cap. We cranked music from our ipod and let it pour out through the open front door as we sat outside and drank beer from champagne glasses. Stars twinkled in the black sky above our little room.
Now, two years later -- here's the video. I just watched it. This is the first time I've watched it since then and I have to say, the beginning part is the best as far as the comparison to horror films. And when the music kicks in, it's perfect. Once we pass by the decorative front lobby to turn around, things kinda go black and you just get flashes of things in the parking lot, Mike's driving skills, and me laughing hysterically, entertained by the sharp turns in my boat of an Acura.
Told you I'd be the only one entertained. I still don't think I've really explained why I love hotels, motels, and horror films. Give me another blog or two. I'm getting there.
Now, two years later -- here's the video. I just watched it. This is the first time I've watched it since then and I have to say, the beginning part is the best as far as the comparison to horror films. And when the music kicks in, it's perfect. Once we pass by the decorative front lobby to turn around, things kinda go black and you just get flashes of things in the parking lot, Mike's driving skills, and me laughing hysterically, entertained by the sharp turns in my boat of an Acura.
Told you I'd be the only one entertained. I still don't think I've really explained why I love hotels, motels, and horror films. Give me another blog or two. I'm getting there.
No comments:
Post a Comment