I also learned sex from the movies. Everyone has. But one particular movie sent my (then uber-closeted) father into cardiac arrest when he heard I had seen it.

Picture it: 1972, Brockvegas.* A rather mature looking 13 year old kid somehow wrangles his way into a 2pm matinee of a restricted showing of this movie in a small Eastern Ontario town (actually I think it was Adult Accompaniment, but it was Restricted to someone my age, at least!). I went because I knew all the grownups were talking about it in hushed tones. Shocking. Scandalous! Sexy…

I was nervous going in. I left confused but yet knew that I had seen a masterpiece. When I got home I was honest with my father when he asked where I was that afternoon. I told him the title of the movie and he totally lost his shit.

“How did you get in to see that movie? Why did you go see THAT movie? What do you think was happening in the movie?”

And the last question that left me head scratching (at the time): “Did you like the music?”

What was the movie?

Cabaret.

*I know… Sharkboy just finished watching Season One of The Golden Girls.

Here are some of the most frightening moments in my life, in no particular order:

I flew back from Lexington, Kentucky, in a turbo prop plane and landed in what was called the worst windstorm of 1995. I hate flying. In a small plane like that it’s magnified 100%. What made it worse was having to approach Toronto over the lake. While the view was beautiful, the wind seemed to be even worse over water. At one point the lone stewardess was literally lifted off the floor of the craft with every drop and bump and decided to strap herself in well before landing. Which, as a nervous flier will tell you, just exasperates the fear.

I was bit in the face by a friend’s dog. I remember going to his house, finding nobody home but the dog in the back yard and thinking that petting him while I waited for him to come home was a good idea (I was 9 years old and stupid). Despite the dog’s growling, I gently stroked his head and neck when… Chomp. The pooch got me on the cheek and nearly bit through the padding on my left hand between the wrist and pinky. I bled like a pro wrestler. I don’t remember pulling away from the dog or the pain, but I do remember a cook from a restaurant across the street taking me in and calling an ambulance. What’s on Special!?

The first time I had sex. Nuff said.

Once, my mom came home while I was really high on acid. She came home unexpectedly and dropped a suitcase in the front hall. She called me to her side and pointed at the suitcase. “This. Is mine.” she said with such force I nearly screamed. “It has a ribbon on it. It’s MINE!” We were in the process of moving from that house and all she wanted to do was say that she found her suitcase and I wasn’t to use it. That’s it. But with LSD cursing through your system, it was as if I she was nailing me down on the spot with every word. I was convinced that she knew I was high and was fucking with me on purpose. Or was she? Why the forceful statement? Did I just say that out loud? Can I go now? Did she say I could go? Am I shaking? No really, can I go? Sure, sure…

Getting married. Seriously. I was pooping a brick during the entire ceremony. Every picture looks like I’m trying to insert my shoulders into my ears, I’m that nervous. Thank god for Sharkboy who averted my oncoming stroke by saying “For richer, and for richer” as his vow.