I had a great relationship with television when I was growing up. It amused me, thrilled me, and at times maybe even baby-sat me. But there were times when the images and sounds on that little set flat-out scared me. This month I 'fess up to some of the classic television elements that spooked me when I was younger.

Count Von Count: I don't want to offend any Countsylvanians out there, but I must admit the Count's accent and appearance startled me when I first saw Sesame Street. It wasn't his ethnicity that freaked me out, though, but rather his apparent ability to summon thunder and lightning at will, not to mention his maniacal obsession with counting. It took me years to play jacks without trembling. Finally, the fact that he laughed so much at his own material that he made Ed Wynn look like Buster Keaton was disconcerting. Of course, today The Count is a welcome sight on the Street, if only because his presence usually indicates at least one segment won't feature Elmo.

Theme song to The Bill Cosby Show: Sure, you watch it today and you just think it's the 'Cos being the 'Cos and the Q (Quincy Jones, that is) being the Q, blending their unique talents to make one of the most distinctive theme songs in sitcom history. But imagine you're a young boy hearing this for the first time one late night on the old CBN cable channel: 'Gonna get some rzzrfrzz and some mrggffh and some rzzllerzlle...'

You might think of it as some kind of dangerous incantation signaling impending doom for civilization as we know it. Or you might just think, 'Is Cliff Huxtable having a stroke?' Either way, it's pretty scary.

The Wicked Witch in The Wizard of Oz: OK, it's not classic TV, but it's a classic, and it was on TV every year. The moment when the witch's face gets all big in the crystal ball? {SHUDDER]

Ralph Kramden breaks the fourth wall: (Note: Not to be confused with Ralph Kramden literally breaking a wall in his disastrous pitch for the Handy Housewife Helper). Isn't what scares us most in real life that which we don't see coming? Well, in the Classic 39's 'Twas the Night Before Christmas, Ralph Kramden gives Alice the traditional episode-ending kiss, but the credits don't roll. No, as the curtain closes, Ralph reaches out and stops it, and starts talking to us.

'We don't usually step out of character,' he says, 'but tonight I think it proper that Mr. and Mrs. Kramden and Mr. and Mrs. Norton wish everybody a Merry Christmas.'

Well, yeah, that's a nice gesture that boots my holiday spirit each Yuletide season, but it scared the heck out of me the first few times I saw it. I love Ralph, but Jackie Gleason the performer is a little intimidating, no more so than at this moment. The Great One, sweating from the lights, wiping the kiss off his mouth (I'm sure Audrey Meadows appreciates that), confronts us with a move that's meant to be sentimental but instead plays like a jarring confrontation. I wasn't used to fictional characters talking to me, and it still catches me off guard. Lesson learned here: ostensibly warm holiday moments can be terrifying.

Original Gumby: My first exposure to the 'little green slab of clay' was the more modern, smoother, wide-eyed version. So when I happened across the original, it wasn't a situation like, 'Oh, hey, there's another Darrin.' There was something off-putting about this shady-looking red-eyed fellow. He was an imposter, not to be trusted, and I didn't know why Pokey humored him and treated him as if he were Gumby. To this day, I find the Eddie Murphy version more appealing and legitimate.

Imposing production logos: I once thought I was alone in my trepidation at the sight of certain production company logos that appeared at the end of television shows. Then I started looking them up, and I found all kinds of popular terms like 'Scary TV logos.' Yes, in the Internet age, there are many of us who are no longer too ashamed to speak of the phobias we share of those certain animations that are too loud, too bold, or maybe just too weird. Do the research, and you'll see what a widespread phenomenon this is.

I recall being chilled by the 1970s PBS logo with the weird beeping and the old Viacom 'V' that threatened to burst through my screen and swallow my whole room. Such logos became not a signature finale, but rather a harbinger of some vague impending terror. The one that always got me was this one from Rankin-Bass, producer of such classics as Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer:


Despite seeing it at the end of so many holiday specials, I was startled nearly every time. I can't express why. Just sitting there on the screen, it's fairly innocuous. Maybe it wasn't just the visual itself but the flute music, intended as innocuous but in reality kind of ominous. Perhaps my father should have played more Jethro Tull records. The Twilight Zone: Nightmare at 20,000 Feet and The Living Doll: Is it any wonder that two TZ moments make my list? Stark black and white imagery + Rod Serling + Child watching the show at 1:00 A.M. make a potent combination.

The simple act of pulling back a curtain in Nightmare sets up a classic horror-style sudden reveal that is my personal scariest Zone moment ever. I don't want to get into plot details, but I wonder if we ought to stop making fun of William Shatner for his halting line deliveries. Isn't it possible he just became perpetually hesitant and cautious after seeing what he sees in this episode?

Doll was another story that frightened the young Rick Brooks. It's funny, but watching this one today as a parent, I find myself rooting for the title character against Telly Savalas' oafish, insecure stepfather. Back then it was a different story. Growing up, we all had toys that, if the moonlight hit them a certain way, spooked us a little bit even if they were just sitting there in the corner. Leave it to the Twilight Zone to create a toy that embodies the fears we have in passing but makes us feel them whenever we see the blasted thing. Talky Tina may well be the single most disturbing character of the classic television era. Anyone who can take down Telly is someone I'm going out of my way to avoid, even if it is an 18-inch doll.


And, hey, isn't it odd that both these episodes that stand out so vividly from my youth happen to be in the same season set and even on the same disc? Cue the Twilight Zone theme.

Keep America Beautiful with Iron Eyes Cody: I was too young to experience this famous PSA when the Ad Council first released it, but I sure felt anxiety when I did see it later. I wish I could say I was ecologically conscious enough to fear the future of the planet in the face of all that pollution that made the Native American shed that memorable tear. No, really it was just the sudden close-up, plus something about the mood, the imagery, and, yes, that darn tear instilled a palpable sense of unease inside my young psyche. Oh, and announcer William Conrad's booming voice probably didn't help. I tell you one thing, I made sure I put my gum wrappers in the trash can.

Charlie Brown and Snoopy: OK, so these two beloved comic strip icons, star of many TV specials including the perennial delight A Charlie Brown Christmas, are not scary in and of themselves. But out of context, a young mind can turn anything into something profoundly disturbing in the subconscious. I was a wee lad when I had a dream involving Charlie Brown washing Snoopy's mouth out with soap. That wasn't the part that made me wake up in terror; it was Snoopy's response. He grabbed the soap, looked at Charlie, and said, in a voice very similar to Mr. Peabody's, 'Next time, I'll take the soap and wash out YOUR mouth.' I can't even describe why this creeped me out so much. He didn't say it in a loud voice, or even a particularly mean voice, but it was Mr. Peabody's voice, and the disconnect, plus the firm assurance with which he said it, staggered me. 'Good grief,' indeed!

Simon Bar Sinister: Here is the chronological narrative of one man's irrational fear of a cartoon villain:

--Sees Underdog, discovers that the evil Simon Bar Sinister is a bad dude

--Years later, sees Lionel Barrymore, realizes what Simon Bar Sinister was all about

--Sees Simon Bar Sinister again, now appreciates the homage

--Sees more Lionel Barrymore and becomes a big fan

--Sees Lionel Barrymore in drag in The Devil Doll

--Is now, in a different way, terrified of both Simon Bar Sinister AND Lionel Barrymore

Balok from The Corbomite Maneuver, Star Trek: To some, Balok may not seem so scary. But it wasn't his appearance in the episode that disturbed me, it was his appearance in the end credits of seemingly every episode. I'm a kid watching Star Trek, sometimes late at night, sometimes just in the early evening or late afternoon one Saturday, and as the show winds down and the theme song plays, suddenly this guy shows up. It's very disconcerting!

I don't remember when I actually finally saw The Corbomite Maneuver, but I can say this: Even today, having seen the true essence of Balok several times, part of me is still a little spooked when I this visage greets me after the episode.

Miss Hathaway: I never watched The Beverly Hillbillies much as a child, maybe in part because I never knew quite what to make of this character. Now that I'm older and can appreciate what Nancy Kulp was doing...I still don't know quite what to make of this character, apart from the belief that if she had hosted that Academy Awards instead of Anne, James Franco never would have gotten away with his shenanigans.

Gilligan vs. The Giant Spider: A recurrent theme in this list is the element of surprise. Well, after seeing it for the first time in years, I report two things that surprise me about the third season episode of Gilligan's Island entitled The Pigeon: First is that the episode with the menace of a deadly giant spider is actually entitled The Pigeon. The arachnid loomed so large in my memory that it overshadowed the little bird that set the plot in motion, and I had to dig a little to pinpoint this one.

A homing pigeon sent by guest star Sterling Holloway goes off course and finds our castaways. The Professor realizes the type of bird it is and devises a plan to send it back with a help note attached. Now, here's what isn't surprising about this episode: The plan doesn't work. It's not just because of Gilligan's idiocy, either, but a collective failure to think it through. Really, as much flak as the 'little buddy' gets for sabotaging every potential escape, this episode reminds us they are all colossal screw-ups.

Anyway, the pigeon flies into a cave and stirs the interest of a monstrous, evil, nasty-looking spider. Sure, this is a silly television show, but who wouldn't be frightened by such a beast? Well, anyone over the age of 5, I now believe, because the animal in question looks like a reject from an Ed Wood production.

OK, so it's not as menacing as I remembered it. When I first saw it, though, it made me spit out my coconut milk, which reminds me of the other thing that surprises me about this episode: Early on, the castaways try to fatten up the emaciated bird so that the Professor will declare him fit to fly away with their help note. Of course, they do this in pairs, without consulting their brainy compadre who devised a wellness regimen, and their overkill transforms the pigeon from sickly to, oh, roughly Frank Cannon. The real shocker is what they feed the pigeon. Skipper and Gilligan start off the parade of goodies with a mango pie. That's right, a mango pie. Not only does this episode feature a massive 8-legged freak of nature, it features a dessert not made from coconut.

Is that particularly scary? No, but it is surprising! Plus it gives me an epiphany. Looking at it from a modern perspective, the scariest thing about classic television from my childhood is not a logo, a cartoon character, nor even a cheesy faux spider. What gives me chills today is the realization of how many hours I spent as a kid watching Gilligan's Island.

Rick Brooks is the proprietor of Cultureshark, a blog in which he uses an often irreverent approach to express his reverence for the classics and the un-classics.