Wednesday, March 28, 2007
"Mulchie," R.I.P.
Sunday, March 25, 2007
Home
Mom always wanted me to have the house. Actually, she always wanted me to have a covered garage; she hated the idea of my carrying groceries up three flights of stairs in pouring rain. Whenever she'd bring up the topic, I resisted. She was never going to die, right? And I really couldn't see how my furniture would fit in a mid-'60s colonial-style ranch house. But the first time I set foot in the house after Mom passed away, everything clicked; I knew exactly where all my furniture would go and what colors I'd paint the walls. I like to think I had some help from above.
This was my home from when I was six years old until I was 24. And now, it's home again. I always wanted an older home with a history. I just never imagined I would be part of that history.
Sunday, March 04, 2007
Haunted History
I went on a Ghost Tour Friday night. The tour bus was cast in a eerie green light and bedecked with Halloween garlands and "Scream" decorations.
The stories were facscinating. Heartbreaking, such as the tale of the nursemaid at the Spanish Governor's Palace in the early 1800s, who was bound, gagged and thrown down a well as her young charges watched in horror. Or humorous, such as the 90-year-old prankster who teased a biker couple at the Bullis House Bed & Breakfast.
I'm skeptical. I've seen too many things that can't be attributed simply to coincidence. But I draw the line at "ghost photos" (our guide shared several of them at the last stop). To me, they're either evidence of careless photography, or seeing what you want to see -- like finding shapes in clouds, or as Wilson Bryan Key did, finding the word "sex" in liquor ads.
