When I was a kid I spent a lot of time at my grandparents house in Midwest City OK. PSYCHO had been re-released into theaters about a year before it was to premier on local TV. I recall the previews being morbidly humorous and more terrifying than anything I had previously imagined. When it was to be shown on television there was quite a buzz in the household. My aunt, only a few years older than me, was eager to see it.

When the broadcast came I was declared too young. I was very disappointed and protested that I was indeed old enough to watch this movie. I was probably six years old. My grandpa told me I could watch until I hid my eyes. If I had to hide my eyes then I had to go to bed. The shower scene was awesome, but didn’t make me hide my eyes. Arbogast didn’t bother me a bit, the scene was too weird to be frightening. But the tour through the Bates house was really giving me the heebie jeebies; by this time I was halfway up the stairs, watching the movie through the bannister rails.

When I met Mrs. Bates it was too damned late. Hiding my eyes wasn’t going to help at that point. The epilogue seemed overdone, but I really liked the last scene of Norman and the shot of the car being pulled from the pond. I made it through the whole movie. This was to begin a lifelong devotion to the joys of horror, although I did not sleep well for several years after. I saw the film again recently in a theater, and found it remarkably dated particularly the soundtrack (which I revere) seemed way overwrought. Oh well, I still remember the first viewing fondly.