Beware of The Blob: Now who is afraid of rolling mound of Jello? Me. I must have been about ten years old when I watched this film on a sunny afternoon in the living room with my dad. That night I asked dad to move my bed away from the vent because I was convinced that The Blob was going to come pouring out of the heat duct on to my sleeping body . Always the prankster, Papa Romano left a big bowl of cherry Jello next to my bed that night. What a guy!
The Crawling Hand: Damn this beast with five fingers! Damn it to hell, I say. When I saw The Crawling Hand late one night on TV, it really got under my skin ... for the longest time I was sure that I'd eventually find the little creep waiting for me in a drawer, or maybe crawling up my shirt when I least expected it. The Exorcist: At the ripe old age of 14, I was pretty sure that I had gotten over my fear of aliens, disembodied hands, blobs and apes on the wing; and then I saw The Exorcist. I am pretty sure I saw this film on Christmas night of 1973. I went with several of my cousins. I was the youngest in the crowd. Having no idea what I was in for, but wanting to be cool like my older relatives, I sat in that theater in Downtown Philadelphia and tried to subdue the chills that were running through me. When I got home that night, I put rosary beads under my pillow, and made sure every light was on in my bedroom. In fact, The Exorcist so screwed with my psyche that I actually started going back to church for a bit (my mother was pleased over this). It actually took me several years to get over the fear that this movie instilled into me; that said, when ever I re-watch this film, it still knocks me for a loop.

And here's Steve as the cover man for a few highfalutin magazines from back in the day...