When I was a little girl we lived way out in the country side. We didn’t have Internet. We had a small television, with only three channels. Late at night on fridays one of them would air more obscure stuff: Such as a clipshow of old sci-fi movies, old and new Doctor Who, but, best of all “Alfred Hitchcock Presents” (because I didn’t know about The Twilight Zone at the time). So, I would wait up with my friday-night candy until the witching hour, and when that opening melody came on, I’d get tingles down my spine in excitement. Before the show was over, I was always so tired I could barely keep my eyes open, but it was worth it, it was always worth it for a student of the macabre.