Happy Friday

It’s Friday yay. 

My weekend plans are mild. I plan on getting the hardware to mount shelves on the far concrete wall in the garage.  I’d like to make some progress on the dining room table full of pictures, art and knick knacks.  Maybe I’ll work on the Moto Guzzi some more.

I’m sitting in my office with all of the overhead lights out.  The only illumination is the answering machine circuit board lamp my uncle made, the light from my dual monitors and the light that spills in from the small windows along the hallway. I just feel like sitting in the dark today and it saves energy to boot.

My former high school classmate and current Facebook buddy posted that he swears he saw a ghost the other night while taking a leak at a bar.  He said that as he was at a urinal a stall door opened and a white form/figure came out.  The only problem is this guy rarely posts anything that is on the level so my assumption was he is bullshitting.

It would be kind of a cool thing if I saw a ghost.  When I was younger I had some weird experiences.  I never SAW anything but I certainly freaked myself out enough.

Our basement in the hundred year old farm house was particularly scary.  It smelled of must.  The switch at the top of the steps only lit the steps.  To light up the rest of the basement you had to pull strings on a handful of light sockets around the area.  I can’t tell you how many times I would reach for a string and feel like when the bulb came on I would be faced with some sort of grotesque creature. 

Behind the furnace was the scariest place of all.  I assumed that was where something would hide.  I would rarely even look in the direction of the furnace if I was in the basement out of fear.  I remember during a few brave moments I would pull one of the lights on the furnace side of the basement and walk defiantly into the area, trying to flush out whatever was there.  I never saw a thing, never heard a thing but it sure scared the shit out of me.

I’ve also described in the past my feelings about the piece of art that my uncle made.  My mom had it on top of a shelf that was at the bottom of the steps to the attic (our bedroom).  It had a face in it that was pointed to the side.  For years I imagined that this thing was looking at me.  As I would go down the steps I would hardly ever look at the thing for fear it would be blinking back at me.  Of course the few times I would sneak a glance it wasn’t staring at me.

I had similar feelings in the barn, another dark and scary place.  Everytime I went to grab my bike out of there there was a bit of fear involved.

I have always more or less disregarded those experiences since I was a child.  A child has a very active imagination that can manifest itself into actually believing there are “monsters in the closet”.  However if I saw a ghost as an old, mostly logical adult that would change the game for me.  As a person that basically believes that when you die you are worm meat and little else, seeing a ghost while not under the influence of some substance would throw a wrench into my belief system.  If ghosts exist then who knows what really happens when you check out?

BOO!