The Demon Haunted World of my Friends and Relations

(Apologies to Carl Sagan)

Over the past few weeks, many of my friends and relatives keep talking to me about their crazy belief in ghosts.  Apparently, almost everyone I know has a ghost, or knows a ghost, or knows someone who knows one, or knows someone who has one, or wants one, or, well . . . you get it.  This topic has come up four times in less than three weeks.  Was there a TV show on that I missed?  Have they been watching A Christmas Carol? – ’tis the season I guess . . .  

I don’t care if you believe in ghosts, go right ahead.  BUT, I beg you,  resist the urge to discuss it with me.  I don’t believe in ghosts.  I require scientific empirical proof for everything (read – EVERYTHING), it’s just my way.   And, you really don’t want to talk to me about it anyway, I always end up laughing at you and you end up upset because who wants to be laughed at by a friend or relative? 

Before anyone jumps into the fray, know this – a person who has known me all of my life has spent years trying to dig up proof that would make me believe in ghosts, to no avail – there’s a reason James Randi still has that million dollars.

The last time she had proof, earlier this year, it involved my going to a “haunted” house.  The story was that a ghost lived at this house and it would fling a loaf of bread off of the top of the refrigerator at least once a day.  (No, Amylynn, I did not make that up.)  So, I got dragged over there to witness this for myself.  It seems many “skeptics” saw it happen and were now believers. 

Here’s what happened: nothing  – NOTHING.  What did happen was that I spent more than four hours there eating delicious homemade baked goods because they didn’t want me to go until I saw the flying bread for myself.   No bread flew but I can swear that cake disappeared.

In closing, since so many of you think ghosts truly exist, for goodness sake – call each other, don’t call me!