I was born with all manner of dysfunctions. I started to suffer the effects of OCD, bipolar tendencies, behavioral problems, depression, and Borderline Personality Disorder before I could read or write. I was, to hear my parents tell it, displaying tendencies at such a young age that I cannot remember them. In 1979 my parents made the mistake of letting me watch SALEM’S LOT. I’d been watching old Monster movies on weekend afternoons for years already, so they figured it’d be safe. Due in no small part to my abnormally functioning child’s mind, it’s not an overstatement to say that SALEM’S LOT did me some real psychological damage. I’m talking months of nightmares, sleeping with the parents, wanting to hang crosses all over the house (and garlic, which sent my father into some profanity-laden recriminations about letting me watch the movie in the first place) and even sharpening a stake which I slept with under my pillow. The idea that a vampire could come in through the bedroom window and get me while I was asleep flat-out traumatized me. I believed in the existence of vampires, and that belief haunted me.
I’m not sure when it happened that my terror of the Undead transformed into fascination, then affection, then to passionate love. At what point I ceased to live in dread of a vampire showing up at my bedroom window and started to long for it. But happen it certainly did. I have come full circle, gone from living in fear that vampires might be real to desperately wanting them to be. When the new movie adaptation of SALEM’S LOT comes out in the fall of 2022, I will 100% be on Team Barlow. You’re welcome at my window anytime, Big Blue!