Yesterday I was burrowing through my collection of storage totes from my move to South San Francisco last year-I was trying to find an installer disc for Windows XP in an attempt to resurrect an old laptop that my sister had given me. Thankfully I did, and this almost 10 years old HP/Compaq v2135us is now usable again. In fact I’m using it now to write this up. The old single core Centrino and 64mb graphics chip is barely able to run standard def YouTube and Netflix video, but it is good enough for light web, my writing, and WordPress postings. This for now shall be my new (rather old) tool to run and write with. Thank you, sister.

Additionally, amongst my collected wasteland of old PC gear, I ran into a collection of old 3.5” floppy diskettes. For fun I pulled out a random box, hooked up my usb floppy disk reader and delved in. Doing so I found some old home work assignments. This one here was for sophomore English; Or was it junior year. Hmm… in any case, I believe the assignment here was to recall a monster that you were afraid of as a child.

Essentially, what I wrote here (at least of my chosen monster) is pretty much complete nonsense. I had to make up something to get a grade. I did do some spell checking as the old DOS word processor program I had used initially to write this did not have spellcheck. The rest of it remains largely untouched, with the addition of an edit/sidestory.

Looking back on this now, I find it insanely hilarious! I hope you all enjoy it.

[okay it formatted weird after I pasted it into WordPress. Whatever.]

—

Ron Dador

Per. 6 Rm. 52

3/17/95

A Story of My Monster

The word monster would not thoroughly justify this story. Fear or phobia is more apropos.

I take no effort to scare of monsters or such mythical creatures, although I do believe in vampirism and witchcraft. To me, the monsters of movies are no less believable than Santa Claus. Now monsters of mysticism are interesting, because they do exist. I know that vampires, witches, clairvoyants, mediums…. are real. And I believe that magic and mysticism is just as important as logic and science. Now don’t take my word for it. I can’t prove it straight out. One must see through my eyes and feel through my mind to believe. Hmmph…

Perhaps I’m getting a bit off subject.

As I stated earlier, I have not a monster…more of a fear. Now this is sort of embarrassing to admit. After all, everyone thinks I’m a devil worshiper, satanic, a witch. Haha…all nonsense. I maybe a little gothic, my family is a bloodline of mediums and psychic healers, but I claim no demon. Oh, and whomever reads this, I entrust that you keep these words to yourself. Please, for the benefit of my well being. If I admitted to the world that I was psychic (I’m not…powerful enough to be, nor want to venture into wielding more power), I’d be throne into an asylum.

Anyway, enough with the meta-physic impediments. Here it goes….I have a little case of arachnophobia. Yes…I fear spiders. I hate spiders! It gives me chills just thinking about them. I’d be surprised if I didn’t commit suicide after havng written this bloody story….haha!

Why do I fear such pitiful a life form?

Well…it’s story time…..

Spring of 1982. Burlingame, California. I was about four years old, living with my grand-parents. I moved around alot in my life, and this, possibly was my fourth or fifth housing. And I suppose I could call this the official start of my life. When I was becoming aware of what surrounded me, and with interest. You could say that I was like a kitten, staring so curiously at well …anything.

I had attended my first kindergarten class, and have to admit, having my first kiss from a female admirer within the first three days. Not bad for a 5 year old…haha. I remember her vividly…and I could tell you an interesting story about her, and myself. But I won’t. Oh and don’t feel that you have to know about it. Nothing juicy. Hell, one might not admit a story like that if it were to be….haha….against the law. I’ll go on to say that it was a mysterious, yet tantalizing experience.

[edit- Okay, okay. Before the webs think I was involved in some pre-pubescent sexual escapade, here is a summary of that little story:

Not long after this event, perhaps a month, it was decided that I move down to our home in Santa Clara to stay with my mother and go to school there. It was a bit too much for my grandparents to run the town Greyhound Bus Station and have to watch over my schooling. I don’t blame them.

In any case I never got to say goodbye to this cute little blonde girl, whom at the time, I had reluctantly called my girlfriend–Rather she was the one claimed me and began our school yard relationship. Haha! I wish I could recall her name. Pity.

So some 5-6 years later, shortly after having graduated from grade school in Santa Clara-That summer was spent with my grandparents back in Burlingame hanging around and helping at the Greyhound station. One day I went off walking around old Burlingame Ave.-I say old Burlingame because since then it has become a street of modern shopping outlets, complete with a Safora and Starbucks. No longer were all the shops small and locally owned. The only places that have survived this great commercial take over, at least that I recognize are the Copenhagen restaurant/bakery, and the Round Table Pizza that was a daily stop due to its small stock of video arcade cabinets. Even the Greyhound Station, which was later deemed a city landmark, has now become a sandwich shop-A very good one, I might add.

I digress…

The point is, like Bon Jovi’s music video for the song, She Don’t Know Me, I shadowed her up and down Burlingame Ave. I believe I had found that cute little blonde girl again, only we were notably older.  At one point our eyes met, and I believe we had a genuine moment of recognition. And of course like the shy fool I was, I walked away frightened. I do regret that I didn’t properly (re)introduce myself. -end edit]

Where was I? Oh yes, my fear of arachnids. One day I was at home, playing alone (typical) in the front yard of my grandparents house in Burlingame. If I recall correctly, I was playing with my toy light-sabre. The light-sabre, the weapon of choice of the Jedi-This one modeled after Luke Skywalker’s light-sabre. I was enthralled by Star Wars, sure, but was far more interested in the swordplay aspect. Hmm…my first taste of holding a hilt, though plastic…still it was marvelous to be in control of a (fake) melee weapon for the first time….

Hmm…oh yes, back to the story. After thrusting and slashing at my make believe opponent, I faked a parry into an unbalanced downward slash, and inadvertently drove myself into the soft grassy land under the old oak tree. After acting out a couple lines from the movie, I attempt to get up. That was when I first encountered spiders. Ohh…I remember it sooo well.

I looked up at the tree, and something magically descended down upon me and landed on my chest. I lay there pondering what the bloody thing was, then it started to move. My heart started pumping rapidly as it slowly crept up my body. I shivered when my skin met it’s fast moving legs moving up my neck. Nervous as all hell, I was.

Then suddenly a large image appears over me, grabs toward my neck and flicks the spider away from me. It was my grandfather, and thank the gods he made it just in time. I swear I would have fainted. That was one of the most agonizing experiences of my life (up to that point, anyway). And to this day I still fear these creatures. Every time I see something resembling a spider…I go absolutely nuts. I hate them….but they’ll always have an edge over me…