Being my first time at Texas Frightmare, I wasn’t sure what to expect. This was their 12th year, so they must be doing something right. There were a few things that I noticed over the two days we were there that could have been handled a little better, such as organizing the lines for the celebrities and for the Q&A’s a little better, but those were minor complaints. It really was run pretty smoothly, not to mention everyone being extremely friendly. And that, my convention friends, really is the key to a good show, having a well informed staff who is very friendly and are glad you came out to spend the weekend with them. This was also my first convention in a few years that I was attending as a fan, not as a dealer and it was a strange feeling. On one hand it was nice not to have to worry about what time it was, making sure the booth was set up, and being down in the dealer room before the show opened. But on the other…I have to say I was bored about halfway through Saturday. But let’s not jump ahead.
Back in the mid to late ’90s, I did something almost on a yearly basis that was one of those stupid things you do when you’re younger…driving from Chicago to New York for a convention, usually in the wintery month of January. I mean, when you have the opportunity to meet genre icons like Lucio Fulci or Paul Naschy, sensibilities tend not to come to the forefront of your thought process. Why pay $200 to $400 for a single plane ticket when I could get a bunch of like-minded horror fans in the car and make the 800+ mile drive there, stay a couple of days, and then make that same trip back. Granted, I was never dumb enough to do it alone, but the first few times we did this, it was in one straight shot. On the way there, we were so pumped full of excitement that the trip didn’t seem that bad. But for some reason the trip back seems sooo much longer. Sure, those long hours in the van were long, tedious, and sometime downright nerve racking. But it was an adventure, to say the least. Now I look back on those days with such fondness. Sure, maybe because I’m not behind the wheel at that moment, but those are still great memories.