Probably the Scariest Thing I Can Think Of

I have never driven in Spokane. Not even one time. Not once. But when I am in Portland, I drive. Sometimes/most of the time, I drive at night. In the dark. In my parent's Honda Civic, which I park in all sorts of places around Portland. All. Sorts.

I have an unfounded fear that there will be a man hiding in the backseat of my car when I come back for it, and that I will get in and start to drive without noticing that he is there. And then, when I am on a dark roadway in the late hours of the night, he will slowly sit up, and I will look in my rearview mirror and see his face.

That's as far as I have thought.

Have you ever seen the movie "Rocketman?" I haven't seen it for about ten years, but as far as I can remember, it goes like this: A wee young boy wants to be in an astronaut. He then grows up to look just like the Bass Player from "That Thing You Do," and he becomes the stupidest astronaut ever, and he goes to the moon and does silly things and falls in love with the hot-lady astronaut, and I think there is a monkey in the story somewhere.

This movie contains one of the best exchanges ever, and here it is:


Dumb Main Character Astronaut: Were you ever afraid that there was a baker under your bed?

Smart Supporting Character Astronaut: No.

Dumb Main Character Astronaut: Well did you ever check?

Smart Supporting Character Astronaut: No.

Dumb Main Character Astronaut: Then how do you know there wasn't a baker under you bed?



Wise words, Dumb Main Character Astronaut, wise words.


I always check for the baker under my bed.


And by "baker," I mean "hiding-psychopathic killer."

And by "under my bed," I mean "in the back seat of the Honda Civic."