It was probably eight years ago: I remember passing by that
odd little card shop in Trolley Square mall and noticing it in the big picture
window. It was a play set of little figures – nine or ten of them –
Horrified B-Movie Victims. Each of the figures was about three inches tall,
with shocked looks on their faces and arms raised as if to defend themselves
from The Blob, The Crawling Eye, The Thing from Another World, The Invasion of
the Body Snatchers, or Them. Those movies are older than I am, but
I grew up watching them with my dad on television Saturday
afternoons. This week (in the theater) I enjoyed the new remake of Godzilla with my husband, my
daughter, my son and his fiancée. Seeing monsters trash Tokyo, Honolulu,
L.A., Vegas and San Francisco brought back so many memories. Is there cinema in heaven?
Because my dad would love this movie, too.
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