The Secret Life Of Ghosts

So, as I have mentioned, my wife has the ability to see ghosts moving about the house. Not just our current home, but everywhere we have lived. These are not ordinary spirits. They do not exist in any particular place, but rather follow us around, from house to house. My wife reminds me that they are with us to ghost13watch over us. I would prefer a security system, and a very large dog, but it seems, I have ghosts.

Many years ago, my wife went through a period where these visitors were frequently in our home. It was an almost daily event. She said that she could smell bread baking. She said that she heard glasses clinking. On more than one occasion she said she heard sounds, like muted laughter, coming from the family room. Much to my chagrin, I had to go and check. I heard nothing. I saw nothing. But I stayed downstairs for a while, appearing to be thoroughly investigated the apparent haunting of my home.

Upon my safe return, my wife demanded to know what I found on my ghost11harrowing adventure. I told her I had neither seen or heard anything. She insisted that I was not telling her the truth. She believed that I had witnessed some paranormal event, and was either too frightened to talk about it, or I was unsure what I had seen. After several more demands, I relented, and, trying not to upset her, I told her what I had seen that fateful night in our family room.

I informed her that I had seen three spirits, one of whom I am certain was her father. I did not recognize the other two men. They were sitting at a table, playing cards. I thought it was poker, but I couldn’t be certain. They were drinking beer out of our shot glasses, and seemed to be quite inebriated. So ghost12much so, that one of the men kept falling off of his chair, and this made the other two laugh hysterically. They had bowls of peanuts, and pretzels, which they kept throwing in the air, trying to catch the morsels in their mouths. They missed often, leaving quite a mess on the floor. The television was on, and I they were watching porn. They had re heated and ate the left over pizza, and had left the empty pizza box, and pieces of crust all over the counter. It was horrible, I informed her. Frighteningly horrible. I asked them what they thought they were doing, and they vanished. Just like that. Totally disappeared. Without cleaning up the mess.

My wife sat silent for a moment, seemingly deep in thought, and then turned to me. “You’re an ass.”, she said. “If there’s a mess, I suggest you go and clean it”.

“It wasn’t me”, I told her, “it’s the spirits. What do you think they do when they’re here?”

“I suggest that you just go clean it NOW.”, she said.

I don’t know why, but  she just didn’t believe me. I was never asked to investigate the paranormal again, which is quite upsetting, I mean, I would really like the opportunity to win some of my money back.





A Boo Radley Moment

When my wife and I first lived together, we rented a century old farm house just north of the city.. It was a wonderfully exciting house, imagesfilled with creaks and moans, and squeaks and bangs. There was a sudden staircase, leading from the living room to the 2nd floor, and a dumbwaiter that was still functional. . It was old, and, at times, seemed quite eerie.  After a while, we got used to the noises, and accepted the creaking, banging, and moaning as a part of our lives.

One night, my wife was woken by a noise she claimed that she had not heard before. She woke me, and we sat listening to what can best be described as 2 pieces of wood being banged togethers. We suspected that someone had broken in.  I told my wife to call the police.

When the police arrived,  they too heard someone moving around. They believed it was coming from the basement. We all stood in the kitchen, listening intently to the would be thieves, waiting for the police to spring into action.

downloadFinally, it was time. The 2 officers pulled their guns and asked where the basement door was. I led them to it. “Okay”, one of them said, “you lead the way. We’ll be right behind you.” You’re kidding, I thought. What the hell am I doing leading the charge up San Juan Hill?  I looked at my wife in disbelief. “Come on. Let’s go”, he urged. I opened the basement door, and headed down the stairs. Behind me, the 2 police officers had their guns drawn, and we’re using their flashlights to illuminate the darkened cellar. “You’re not going to shoot me in the back”, I said.

“I hope not”, one of them replied.

I moved down the stairs as stealthily as my trembling legs wold permit,  and was amazed at just how creepy this basement was in the dark. In tje dead of night. The wooden rafters seemed almost alive in the shadows. I felt like a character out of ‘To Kill A Mockingbird’, skulking around the Radley house, terrified to find Boo. The noises were much louder now, and the police, still behind me, were moving their flashlights around, looking for any sign of  an intruder. We reached the bottom of the stairs, and the noise seemed to be coming from the log beams that ran across the ceiling. Their flashlights were focused above us now, and there,  partially hidden behind a box nestled in the rafters, they saw something. “It’s a raccoon”, one of them shouted. I looked up, and there was the biggest raccoon I had ever seen.

“Stay back”, one or the officers remarked, “she’s pregnant. “They’re when they’re pregnant.”

“Can you get it out?” I asked.

images-1“Ah, no.”, He answered. “She’s likely to rip your face off”

Well, can you shoot it?”

I was informed that they could not shoot it. The best that I could do was to call animal control in the morning. They would come out, and humanely removed the mutation. In the meanwhile, I was advised to stay far away from this animal. It could be rabid.

They put their guns away and we went upstairs. I thanked them for not shooting me in the back, and they departed, leaving me, and my wife, with one giant, potentially rabid rodent. My wife and I stayed awake all night, making sure the killer raccoon from hell did not make it upstairs to shred our faces. Animal control came in the morning and trapped the masked bastard, ending one scary night in paradise.
















It’s A Scary Night, Indeed!!

So, soon it will be the night when all of the little kids get to dress up as ghosts, halloween3superheros, princesses and a host of other celebrated characters, and roam the streets of my neighborhood, inevitably coming to my home, and incessantly ringing my door bell in an attempt to extort candy. I hate Halloween!

I do not like unexpected visitors, nor do I appreciate uninvited bell ringers! I dislike solicitors, salesman, flyer delivery people, census takers, and political pollsters.  I used to have an issue with religious zealots, but they don’t seem to come around anymore. Or perhaps I am on their “keep away from the crazy old man’s house” list.

halloween2 Anyways, back to the goblins and ghouls who will undoubtedly arrive at my house by 6pm, looking for a trick, or a treat. I am not sure why it does not occur to people that this act or random solicitation might be disturbing to others!  There was a time when, if there was no pumpkin on the porch, or in the window, you didn’t go to that house. Now, they come anyway, squealing with delight,  bothering me as I scramble to find something to put on so I can open the door and  give them a processed piece of edible garbage. What I really want to give them is a good talking to, but my wife reminds me that I should just be nice. They are only children!

I will have no pumpkin on my porch. There will be no ghosts dangling from the trees. There will be no haunted house and I will have no candy to give. I don’t care if the lights are on, do not mistake this as an invitation for you to come to my home. Man, I hate Halloween!!

It is obvious however, that Halloween will continue as usual with hundreds of freaks and fairies parading the streets, oblivious to all social conventions. So, halloween1here are a few tips to make your Halloween safe.

5. Travel in groups. Do not go out alone.
4. Look before you run across the streets.
3. Take an adult with you.
2. Wear something that makes you easy to see.
1. Do not come to my house.

By the way-the Morgan’s, 2 doors down from me, always have great crap to hand out. Feel free to ring their bell at least twice.



She sees dead people. My wife. Well, not people, but ghosts. Spirits. She always has. I can’t begin to tell you how many times I have seen her looking at something that I swear wasn’t there. Staring in wonder, gb3she has, on occasion, attempted to communicate with these other world entities. Pretty freakin’ weird, I know, but it runs in her family. There was a great aunt who they claim was a witch. No, don’t laugh. Everyone in the family was afraid of her, lest she cast a spell on them. Rumour has it that she put a spell on her husband, and he became catatonic for the last 15 years of his life. People would flock to her for advice and assistance. A curse on this person, a pox on that person. It was a sight to behold!! I met her twice, and she scared the hell out of me.

These spirits, as my wife sees it, come to let her know all is gb2well. I would much prefer a postcard, however she eagerly waits their appearance. She feels their presence, in a very deep, spiritual way. A connection she calls it. They do not speak to her. I am glad for that! She says that the spirits let her know that all is well through their energy. Still, I find it all a little disconcerting. I try to ignore her “something’s here”, or “they’re here again” opening sentences that announce the start of the visits. They do not visit me, for which I am grateful, but my wife says that they know I am there, and watch over me as well. So far, there have been no disturbing events: Tableware does not fly through the air, chairs do not move, and the lights do not flicker off and on.

I hope that my wife is right. I hope these visitors are only here to confirm that we are on the right path. But what if she is wrong? What if they are lying? What if they are really here to push us in the wrong direction? Not to worry, my wife advises, one of the spirits is her father, who would never harm her. I hope that he feels the same way about me, I mean, I have been doing his daughter for years and years. It would piss me off.

There are times when I think this is all in her head, you know, a little trip on the crazy train, but I have to believe that she feels what she says she feels. For now. In the meantime, I don’t sleep. I lay awake at night waiting for them to gbcome. I wonder if I should do something, like put out snacks, make tea, or put up streamers. Just in case she is right. I do not see dead people, nor do I want to. Hearing about things flying around my home in the dead of night is unsettling. But, if needed, I think I know who to call!