Why the Long Face?

I hate clowns.There I said it. To those who are clowns, are in love with a clown, or participate in various clown-support groups, you have my apologies. But I really, Really, REALLY hate clowns.It is the one bigotry that I allow myself because you see, I don't discriminate amongst clowns. I lump them in one group. Well, that isn't 100% true. I am speaking of painted clowns. If you are just a clumsy guy prat-falling in too big pants, I don't hate you. But if you are smearing white grease paint all over and placing a big red nose on -- well, then I hate you. It matters not whether you are a sad clown or a happy clown. I really, Really, REALLY hate you. (Did I already say that? Well, it bears saying again!)So why the animosity, Traci? Can't a grown man wear exaggerated make-up in peace? We're only trying to make you smile after all.Because you scare the s@*t out of me! I have been scared of clowns for as long as I can remember. It started with a Jack-in-the Box. Why do we give those evil toys to children? I would wind it and wind it hearing that "prickling of thumbs" music get faster and faster waiting in fear and in anticipation for that God-forsaken blue polka-dot adorned clown to pop right out at me. I screamed every time.Now that doesn't seem worthy of such depth of animosity, Traci.Well, blame "Fantasy Island". When I was about seven, my parents went out on a Saturday night -- crazy, I know! -- and they left us with our wonderful long-term babysitter. Being Saturday night, we had an evening of Easy-Bake cakes and ABC television in the plan.Now for those of you who are too young to remember, Saturday nights use to represent "Must-See" tv, not the stopping place before cancellation. And ABC was the place. "The Love Boat" at 8:00 and "Fantasy Island" at 9:00. My brothers had to go to bed at 8:00 but I was allowed to stay up and watch "The Love Boat" and occasionally, I could convince the babysitter to let me stay up just a little longer for Mr. Roarke and his famous plane.Well, this night's episode centered around a young woman who had a recurring nightmare of a fire in her childhood home. In the dream, she would come downstairs to find herself encircled in flames and her toys alive and screaming in the flames. (Or at least this is how I remember it!) At the center of these toys, was the very Jack-in-the-Box from my home laughing maniacally. I can still remember it. It was like the spawn of Satan.Well, I lost it. I became hysterical and as this was 1978, there were no cell phones, my babysitter could simply wait and do her best to calm me until my parents came home. I was still wide awake rocking myself like someone suffering from PTSD when they finally arrived. I woke up screaming night after night with the same nightmare for which the young woman had sought the magical Montalban touch. But there was no Island for me to seek refuge, After that, there was no "Fantasy Island", period. There was a complete ban.But that was not the end of the evil clowns. Several years later, a little film named "Poltergeist" came to town. And if "Fantasy Island" wasn't enough to put me off the Bozo set, that film proved that clowns were surely minions from Hell itself. I saw that film at  age 11 and trust me, the move from small to large screen was not an improvement.This clown had long arms that could reach out from under a bed (another sore spot) and pull a child down into the world of ghosts, chattering skeletons, and swirling pink oblivion. It's perpetual painted smile and pull-string laugh only made it worse. And the nightmares returned as bad as as age seven's red-nosed laced screamers.Add to this the unnatural desire to stuff as many clowns possible into a Volkswagen (an affront to this claustrophobic), John Wayne Gacey, and Stephen King's unnatural vision into my fears (e.g. "It") and I really, Really, REALLY hate clowns!Do you have something that sets you off, makes your skin crawl, or basically scares the s@*t out of you?