Musings
an Online Journal of Sorts

By Alyce Wilson

Yesterday was a rocking day. It started off with The Gryphon and I going to see School of Rock, starring Jack Black.

To put it simply: Jack Black rocks!

Jack plays a musician whose band just dumped him and whose best friend is insisting he pay the rent or get out. So he scams his way into a substitute teacher job, teaching them what he knows best: rock music.

He forms a band from members of the class, in order to compete in a battle of the bands competition, against the band that dumped him.

Joey Gaydos, who plays Zack, the lead guitar player, goes from uptight classical guitarist to rocker with attitude. And the kid can play. He reminds me a bit of Pete Townsend in the early days.

Also stealing the show is Kevin Clark, drummer, who becomes more and more punk throughout the movie. And Robert Tsai, keyboards, comes out of his shell to become a little bit Elton John (stylistically), a little bit Patrick Moraz (musically).

The movie even manages to avoid the sappiness that is typically the pitfall of movies like this. I immediately ordered the soundtrack, along with an album by Tenacious D, Jack's band.

So, how can you make a day rock even more than a rocking Jack Black movie? Go to a haunted house in a reputedly haunted prison. Each year, the Eastern State Penitentiary hosts a Halloween haunted house, called "Terror Behind the Walls."

I had heard about this haunted house before but was reminded about it by a coupon given away in the Halloween store where I bought my police hat and handcuffs for this year's police costume. The Gryphon and I decided to go, so after changing into comfortable shoes (a necessity for running away from spooks), we drove up.

Now, despite the fact that I grew up in a haunted house, and despite the fact that I know that haunted houses of the amusement kind are absolutely safe, I used to be terribly freaked out by them. So much so that I actually had a recurring nightmare where I was in a haunted house in an amusement park and was absolutely petrified about what was going to jump out at me next.

Then, one night I dreamt that I was in one of these attractions and a vampire tried to scare me. I kicked him, and he squealed, "They don't pay me enough!" Then I started joking around with him, and he helped me out of the house. I've never had a fun house nightmare since.

Even so, when we pulled up outside the imposing walls of the Eastern Penitentiary, I was a little freaked out at first. But we bought our tickets and got in line. There, they built the tension by showing videotapes on the prison's history and the reputed hauntings within. They also had "prisoners" circulating through the line every once in awhile, shoving their faces in people's faces and scaring them.

Strangely enough, after this happened the first time, I realized I was no longer truly frightened. I realized that the "prisoner" hadn't touched me, but instead had simply gotten as close as he could and talked menacingly. So one of my biggest fears was alleviated: no one was going to grab me. It was all in fun.

The line was incredibly long, and as we filed through the moonlit courtyard, staring down one or another dark, barred hallway, I tried to get a sense for the prison. I opened myself up, you could say, to the prevailing mood of the place. And what happened next was scary.

Standing across from one of the inky black prison doorways, which seemed to me to be exuding a cool sort of air -- not exactly tactile, but a cool feeling, one could say -- suddenly, I felt an overwhelming sense of anger. The anger rose up inside of me, brewing into rage. The noise all around me -- the excited ticketholders, the TVs, the prison guards clanging flashlights on the metal barriers -- was confusing, addling, maddening. I felt — not heard — the words, "Too noisy."

This anger felt like an invasive force, outside myself. I took a deep breath, said a prayer and expelled it. As a precaution, I made certain to close myself off to any further such invasions. Immediately afterwards, I returned to myself, attuned to the exuberance of the ticket holders alone, their joy and excitement.

I would say this moment was the scariest thing that happened there. Nothing inside the fun house carried as much of a sense of a real threat.

We were separated into groups of four for entering the prison, and The Gryphon and I were paired with another couple. She had worn dressy shoes that kept falling off her feet. "She's a liability. We should leave her," I said loudly as soon as the shrieks and groans got so loud that I was certain she'd have no idea what I was saying. If we'd been in a horror movie, she would have been the first to go.

The fun house used all the tricks of the trade: winding dark passageways, meaning lots of blind corners to go around. Close spaces so that you couldn't get too far away from the spooks. Mechanical distractions designed to draw your attention so that someone could jump out from behind you and spook you.

After the first turn or two, I got a sense for what to anticipate and started having fun with it. I started cracking jokes about everything we passed, the ghouls included. It was my goal to make them laugh by doing things like shouting, "Aaaaa! I'm afraid of dreadlocks" to a dreadlocked"prisoner." Admirably, they all stayed in character.

I would dearly love to tell you more about the wonderful surprises — some of them ghoulishly funny — inside the haunted house, but it's still open for several more weeks and it's best to experience it for yourself. I will say that it was probably the best one I've ever been through. They've even added a psychedelic portion, where you don special glasses and get to see 3D effects.

Afterwards, we bought ourselves a funnel cake at the concession booth and wandered through the exhibits on the prison's history. We decided to come back sometime, during the day, for one of their tours. I'll bring my camera and see if I end up with any interesting pictures. Something tells me a tour of the prison itself, even in daytime, might actually be spookier.

Copyright 2003 by Alyce Wilson

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