Happy Birthday Robert Englund!

Thanks for the memories...

For all who don't know me well, my true introduction to the wonderful world of horror was watching A Nightmare on Elm Street. That's right folks, back when we still watched movies from little plastic boxes with spinning tape inside of them, I watched a movie starring Robert Englund as the one and only Freddy Krueger. Hell, I remember the fact that we had to rent VCR's back then because they were too expensive to own for most families.

So there I was, I think eight years old at the time, watching this movie about a man killing people inside their dreams! Oh my what a concept, especially for an eight-year-old. Even though (SPOILER ALERT: And if by chance you're one of those who have never seen the original A Nightmare on Elm Street...What are you thinking reading this! Get out there, find a copy and watch it! NO! Stop reading, close the browser and go find the freaking movie now! For the ladies...do remember it's one of the first Johnny Depp films, and it was before he started rolling with Tim Burton, muhahahahahaha) they defeated Freddy at the end of the movie (shhhhhhhh! Those who've seen it know why I'm shushing them), the idea was forever burned into my mind.

Oh and did that beautiful idea haunt me! It took what seemed like forever to me to finally be able to sleep at night without freaking out.

I remember one particular night with vivid clarity. It was time for bed and as was with other nights, fear gripped my mind and wouldn't allow me the ability to fall asleep. My mother called to me from across our home that it was time for bed and I very reluctantly turned the light off and climbed into my bed. Cowering under my blanket, I remember the events as if they happened just moments ago. Here I am, trying to convince myself it's safe to go to bed, when the heating system kicks on. Now anyone who's ever slept in a mobile home will tell you, the sound of the heater kicking on is not quiet...it revs for lack of better terms. The moment the heater started to “rev up,” this car full of kids drives down my road, all of them screaming with glee. To me, it sounded like the boiler room with souls being tortured!

To this day, I don't know who was more freaked out: Me from hearing the car full of kids or my mom who had to hear her son scream at the top of his lungs. Welcome to the world of horror Trent Kinsey!

I don't remember how long my life of fear continued after that, but I remember my mom bringing to me an article from either a newspaper or magazine, showcasing the day Robert Englund got married. I remember seeing a picture of a cake with skeletons and other horror figures decorating it. And on another page, a picture of the man I was scared would kill me in my sleep. Without any of the makeup. No scars, no burnt flesh or torn, ratty sweater. And most importantly, no glove with razor sharp knives attached to the fingers.

This man, this horrific figure, looked like a common comedian! How could I have ever let this man haunt my dreams? Why was I letting him keep me from falling asleep? And the spell of Freddy Krueger broke and I was freed from his nightmarish clutches.

Since that day, all the sequels that followed I found to be entertaining. Hell I even laughed at most of them. I stared watching them just to see what new ways he would torture some youth in their nightmares. I became a fan of horror.

So, happy birthday Robert Englund, the man who first scarred the living shit out of me. May you have many, many more. You started me on my path of writing horror and trying to scare my readers as much as you scared me as a child.

Your fan,