Blogging ever blogging, ever blogging nevermore.

Or something like that anyway.  Edgar Allen Poe would’ve messed his literary trousers just now and shame on me for being too lazy to check my references.  I promise to research more extensively on my next blog.  This one will have to depend on my insomnia and the 2 large Starbucks caramel coffees with a lump of sugar, milk, and Kahlua I had several hours ago.  With the full moon in the still night sky, as it is now 4:39 am by my pc clock, and Edgar Allen Poe’s recent birthday, I suppose I shall talk a bit about my fascination with his work.  I’m not Emo, but I think there’s a bit of the Goth in me.  I’m not sure when this happened really, but stories with an edge or broodiness, a good twisty-turny mystery has always caught my eye.  My interest in Poe possibly began in middle school, in a small town in the Midwest, that runs right along the Mississippi River.  My English and Drama teacher, Mrs. Morris, was my hero at the time.  She was everything I hoped to be one day, but was too timid to impress upon her I’m afraid.   No matter.  She taught two of my favorite subjects, and I admired them from afar.  She gave me the most standout, wonderful gift a kid could get in the hellish halls of Junior High…my imagination.  Not to say, she GAVE it to me, it was already there and quite vibrant.  She did what so many teachers do, she planted seeds of inspiration and guided them to growth.  She brought our class to Washington University in St. Louis, MO on a field trip.  Here we would attend a live theatrical performance of Poe’s “The Tell-Tale Heart”.  My family was on a high school counselor’s salary so we didn’t get to the city often and this was a real treat.  The stadium seating, the university atmosphere with college kids seeming so worldly and sophisticated, began to fill around us.  It was both intimidating and exhilarating.  We settled in our seats, the lights went down and the curtains opened…AHHHHH.  There’s nothing like it, is there?  It is watching a great book come to life.  We had good seats I remember and as the story suspense-fully ticked along, so did the fantastic sound effects.  As the story goes, the narrator truly believes that he can hear a man’s heart beating under the floorboards (I won’t give spoilers just in case you haven’t read this classic).  We hear what he hears:  bum-bum, bum-bum, bum-bum.  The rhythmic pulsing begins softly, slowly.  Bum-bum.  Bum-bum.  Then a bit faster.  Bum-bum-bum, bum-bum-bum.  Each moment more terrifying than the next as the narrator’s fear and paranoia grow stronger.  The character is so beside himself, he confesses to committing a crime to the police.  Fantastic.  I’ll never forget the experience.  Those were the wonder years;  life seemed so whistful and care-free, though  I remember having struggles like all kids do.  We stopped on the way home at a McDonald’s and I had my favorite–a vanilla shake dipped with those famous salty fries and my best friends laughing.  A perfect, perfect day.  On Mr. Poe’s birthday, I downloaded his story,”The Raven” to my e-reader.   If you can, read or reread these wonderful tales of woe and suspense by Edgar Allen Poe from your local library or you can find some free on Googlebooks.  That is, if you have the heart for it!  (Evil laughter ensues.)