"Scardy Cat"...."Am NOT"......"Are, too!"

What’s scary to you?

I love spine tingling ghosty stories. I love looking at ghost photographs, watching ghosty vids on you tube. Ghosty movies, not that hack and slash crap, but a good ghost story, heck it ain’t gotta be good. There are a plethora of “good” awful ghost movies on Hulu.

I’ve had the occasional ghostly experience. Sometimes my mother rattles around, but it’s not scary. I know she is here when I smell coffee brewing and I am not brewing coffee. We catch glimpses of movement in the corner of our eyes. She just drops by from time to time to check up on us. You get used to it after awhile.

I don’t care for clowns. I can only stand 3, Bozo, Ronald McDonald and Fizbo. All other clowns are evil and must be shunned. It’s not so much that I’m scared, I just hate clowns. I don’t trust anyone who won’t show their face. You can’t even trust Jimmy Stewart for cry-eye. Remember that movie “The Greatest Show on Earth”? Jimmy Stewart plays a circus clown hiding out behind the face paint, cos in real life (Real movie life, isn’t that an oxymoron?) he’s a fugitive running from the law for murdering his wife. You can’t even trust George Bailey after he schemers on the clown white.

My cousin, Dood Cuz, has this philosophy regarding clowns. People who hate clowns hate with a real passion. You don’t kinda just hate clowns if you’re a clown hater; you hate them with every fiber of your being, violently and carrying invisible pitchforks. Loathe entirely!

You know what would be the most awfullest thing ever? A Ghost Clown. If the theory that ghosts are lost souls trying to make sense of their deaths is true, imagine how many ghost clowns there could be. Clowns must die in plenty of embarrassing ways. Their squirting lapel flower could get turned around the wrong way and squirt water up their nose and drown them. And, how embarrassing to die in a clown car accident. When you jam that many passengers in a tiny vehicle, the ratio to body parts that intermingle tragically and comically would be very high, I would think. And all those red rubber noses lying around in the debris, it’s just too overwhelming to imagine.

Then, there’s your clown murders. Clowns piss people off, and every now and then they get whacked. Most clown murderers get off, though..crime of passion, justifiable homicide. Clown came at me with a pie, I’m deathly allergic to custard cream and he knew it. It was self defense. He just kept pulling and pulling those silk scarves from his sleeve, it drove me mad I TELL YOU…………..M A D!!! I had to kill him (insert dramatic sobs) I HAD….To…..…..Keel Heem.

When I was little it was one of my mother and step dad’s hobbies to go “ghost hunting”. We would travel the wilds of Rankin Co Mississippi (I think the wilds ceased to exist many years ago) looking for run down abandoned houses to explore. It was mid to late sixties, people didn’t post many “No Trespassing” signs back then. I don’t remember ever seeing a ghost, but it was rich in creepy goodness, just the same. Today, me and my girls enjoy touring antebellum homes in Natchez and The Myrtles in St. Francisville La. We like walking in grave yards.

Mel and I visited our dearly departed today. Mother’s Day is a popular day at cemeteries, we were lucky enough to miss the crowd. This little cemetery is off the main road, very scenic and peaceful. In living in the same place in excess of twenty years you make friendships and sometimes they dissolve at some insurmountable conflict and people stop speaking. Recently, I only found out about a former BBF’s stepson dying by discovering his plot on one our little visits. That rattles you just a little bit. You see tombstones with dates that span too short a life and you wonder “what’s their story?”.

Graveyards don't scare me. I think they are beautiful and peaceful. Back in 9th and 10th grades, I roamed the Sacred Heart cemetery in Broussard La. It was the only place I had to escape an ugliness going on in my home life. I frequently found myself there at night. Graveyards are good places to be alone (although, you're anything but alone) a quiet place to roll some thoughts around in your head. A good place to reminisce and be calm.