For as long as I can remember I’ve loved horror movies. Maybe like a lot of kids the interest was born of morbid fascination — forbidden fruit as I walked down the video store isle and we as a family consistently walked briskly passed. I would occasionally take a detour back through the array of suggestive covers and imagine storylines based on the still sneak preview. So much to imagine and the 80’s were ripe with potential.

We listen to a lot of music in our house. Half of it breezes right past my ears. It really wasn't until Edie started stopping in her tracks, ending some pretty ferocious concentration, to wave her arm back and forth (sometimes Maya Rudolph style dance moves