Thoughts for 2010 from the mind of an automatononiac
I blame Karen Black.
I don’t have a lot of phobias. I’m not afraid of heights, water, needles or a hard day’s work. But thanks to the actress who plays the most helpful of flight attendants in Airport ‘74 (or is it ‘76?) I have a strange fear which I am going to confess right here and now.
Puppets creep me out. Just a little. Thanks to Karen Black. Did you see her in “Trilogy of Terror?” In it, she is harassed, stalked and ultimately tortured by a ventriloquist dummy. Ever since I saw that movie in the middle of the night on an old black and white TV set as a kid, I have not trusted puppets.
And the same holds true for some dolls. For a few months after I moved back home seven years ago, I stayed with my parents. In the guest room, my mother has part of a porcelain doll collection. Granted, I gave her some as gifts but if I knew one day they would stare at me while I slept, I wouldn’t have purchased them. Yes, I tried to cover their faces with a t-shirt or blanket but I could just hear them at three in the morning...”help me, help me, I‘m suffocating...”
When she was in high school, my sister studied cosmetology. And I often asked her not to leave that mannequin’s head she used in lab sitting around where I could see it. I used to have nightmares that it was on the pillow next to me in bed. “Good morning, sunshine.”
I know you’re laughing but this is a real thing. Automatonophobia is the fear of ventriloquist dummies, and pediophobia is the fear of dolls. It’s not so bad that I can’t be around them. I am perfectly fine in a room full of converted socks and carved lumber. As long as they are accompanied by their owners. But leave me alone with them and I cannot be trusted. One of us may not make it out alive.
They don’t all make me uncomfortable. A Tickle Me Elmo does not send me screaming from Toys R Us. It’s the wooden ones, the ones that sit on laps, the ones whose heads can turn completely around who have the roving eyes and frozen smiles that look like one of the Real Housewives of Orange County just after Botox. I don’t trust anything that talks out both sides of its mouth, especially with a hand up its backside. That’s just wrong on so many levels.
I only admit this so you know what an accomplishment it was for me to spend an evening in the company of Wilma Ford. She has spent the better part of four decades surrounded by creations she summons at her will. Posing Wilma with many of her characters to photograph our cover, I almost said “okay, everybody, smile.” Everybody?
It’s appropriate then that we should have this feature in an issue that marks Allegany Magazine’s fourth anniversary. For me, it’s amazing how the magazine itself has evolved, progressed and grown beyond its own fears since we debuted in 2006. This magazine does not just have readers and subscribers. We have friends. And I hope we have done you and our hometown proud and we look forward to bringing you more unique and interesting places and people in the issues and years to come.
Even if sometimes those stories pose personal and mental challenges like working nights and weekends, camping out in cemeteries, trekking through the snow at 7 a.m., directing fashion shows in 100 degrees, or taking pictures of clowns -- ah, clowns -- don’t even get me started on clowns.
To read the entire letter from the editor,click here...
Each issue, Allegany Magazine features selected verse and an artful photograph -- an embodiment of the talent our area produces.
The premiere issue for instance features a poem loaned to us from a local winner of the 2001 Pulitzer Prize for Poetry and a photograph from a local photographer
that won the Peoples Choice Award in a prestigious national juried art show.
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"The magazine will be strong on people stories," said Allegany Magazine publisher Ron Monahan.
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Our feature "Decorated Interiors" will take you there, celebrating what is unique about each house and the people who live there.
Who knows? You may even find yourself inspired.
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