You've got to kiss a lot of toads before you meet a real prince.
That's what they say anyway.
I'm thinking that philosophy goes for getting through October to get to all the Christmas shows on television. To get to Christmas, you've got to get through Halloween, and though I dearly love Halloween, I cannot and will not watch scary shows on television.
Call me a wuss if you will, but I see nothing to be gained by scaring the by-jeepers out of myself. Nothing at all.
Those shows have already started. "The Haunting in Connecticut." "The Amityville Horror." Freddie whats-his-bucket. I've never seen one of the Elm Street movies, nor will I ever agree to such. And I used to live on Elm Street. A ripple in reality there.
It may have started back in 1960. I was 13. My world offered little more than chasing cows that broke through the fence or raking hay for Dad or rearranging furniture in the house when it was my turn to clean the living room.
I'd lived through the pain of watching the rendering truck guy shoot my favorite cow right between the eyes because she was so sick, and I'd cried my heart dry when my first 4-H calf turned around and came out of the truck hauling him to slaughter. They buzzed him with a cattle prod, and he bellowed. So did I.
But none of that readied my mind for "Psycho."
In her infinite wisdom, my mother took me to that movie. I have three sisters, but none of them went. Mom said she couldn't go alone, so for some reason that still mystifies me, I went with her. I still hate showers.
Commercials for scary shows even hurt. I turn on the mute and shut my eyes, counting slowly to 30 before opening them again. Sometimes I count too quickly.
This is the one time of the year that I really wish my life away by wanting the time over.
Many other times, I'd like to turn back the clock. Not always, but some. Like Oct. 20. That's a Saturday. On that day, the Sentimental Swing band led by Tom Steinkoenig will play for a dance at the Laurens Country Club.
I'd like to turn back the clock so I could dance, so I don't have to worry about severe wobbling. I've always loved to dance, even though it was impossible to get my husband to do so. We took dancing lessons once, but after that, he refused to go dancing. That's not how it was supposed to be.
Anyway, Sentimental Swing will play from 4 to 7 p.m. at the Country Club, sponsored by the Laurens-Marathon speech department at the high school. Nancy and Ken Kunickis are in charge there. Good people, they are. Good friends.
Dance tickets will be available at the door at $10 a person. Tickets are also available in advance at the Treasure Chest, Rumors Pub, Ressler Drug and Dallenbach Insurance or by calling (712) 841-4602.
This Harvest Ball should chase the scariness of October away.
So long friends, until the next time when we're together.
Sandy Mickelson, retired lifestyle editor of The Messenger, may be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org.