That's what me and my brother agreed to a few weeks back, that we didn't want the other to go to the hassle. We also thought it would be funny if we made a multi-hour self-tribute on DVD to be played at our funerals, assuming that most folks would be too respectful to get up and leave. On a long run the other day I wondered who would be the first to get up and leave mine - my guess is my old boss Bob Stokes, who would eloquently be able to justify himself over a pint. Anyways, if I don't make it out of haunted New England, no need to trouble yourself coming to my funeral - except Pa Harvey, who downplayed the risk from ghosts.
I'd have gone crazy by now with the complete darkness and all the strange noises - including occasional deep growls from Hudson at who knows what - if it weren't for that Peter Lynch book. I have maybe 10 books on the trip - 9 of which are collections of "true" ghost stories. The other 1 is Lynch's book, with chapters such as "Taking Union Carbide to Lunch" and "If It's Tuesday, It Must Be The Belgium Fund". I also switch the iPod to Celtic music. Nothing bad happens during a jig or a reel, right?
See, if Maureen were here, at least I know I could outrun her and they - Satan et al - could catch her instead. But, as she is in Bothell, this is who I have to protect me from the legion of undead:
If we do make it out of here, we'll be doing a 5k person-dog race this Saturday in Vermont. Sunday we did a 1-miler together and today 2.3-miles in good time:
I'm not sure why having another person around is calming. According to many of the horror movies I've seen, the wife would be the first to go anyways, probably walking into a dark cellar where the noises were coming from, scantily dressed, saying "Hello, what do you want with us" before shhkkkkkkttt! (at least per the dumb slasher movies, not the classics like "The Exorcist" or "The Changeling" filmed in Tacoma).
I blame the Catholic Church for being scared of ghosts, with all the rituals and superstitions, like "All Souls Night" and "All Saints Day" and "Halloween" (ok, that's not theirs). I also lived in a haunted house in college for three years. I even have a photo from Nashville with two ghosts staring out a window - at a historic home where The Battle of Nashville was fought. I showed it to Pa Harvey - the Nuclear Physicist - and he said "Balderdash" (which is why he is required to attend my funeral). So yes, I do believe in ghosts.
One night here Hudson got spooked for some reason, jumped off the bed and went upstairs (we usually move downstairs about 4 or 5 in the morning). I didn't want to go back to sleeping on the small couch:
"Come here Hudson"
"Come on boy"
I had to use bacon to entice him back down stairs.
There's really nowhere to run to in the middle of the night - nothing but more dense woods:
And if all this night activity isn't enough, these three came out of nowhere today, startled the heck out of me while I was on a call. Who expects to see turkeys? No wonder I'm so edgy at work...