Thursday, November 27, 2008

The PROOF is out there.


Here's a ghost story for thanksgiving. Let us not forget that the original thanksgiving was celebrated by dead people... go with it.

Early this year my office got a call from a local group calling themselves the Paranormal Research Office Of Fayetteville, or “PROOF.” The group invited my office to send in a reporter to tag along on an investigation of a house at 247 Coolspring Street, downtown. Realizing that this could possibly be a dangerous assignment (“Scooby Doo” is a cautionary tale), they sent their most expendable reporter: this is my story.



The PROOF Is Out There

By James Johnson

8:00 p.m.
I arrive on the scene, accompanied by photographer Albert Stichka and our creepy quiet friend Maia Miller, who was asked to come along merely because of the eerie vibe she gives every situation.
Upon pulling up, the Scoobies and I (I’m more of a “Fred” ) were greeted by PROOF leader Jerry Holland.*
Holland wasted no time introducing his crew.
Tim Kuntz, a computer tech and as of recently, a reformed mullet wearer - he regrets nothing. Jenna Garcia, parapsychologist and reluctant ghost prodder (“If there is a ghost in the room, please give us a sign by touching one of the men in the room … anyone but me,” chanted Garcia in a not-so-proud moment). And finally, Andy Nunez, a joyless man who gets his kicks from trouncing the strongly held myths of others.
“For me, the thrill is when you can debunk one of these ghost stories,” Nunez said. “You’d be surprised how much fun that can be.”
After being formerly introduced, Holland set about the business of giving us the background on the house we were about to enter.
Apparently, the house, which doubles as an office space, has had a long reputation of being a prime creep-out zone. Holland said that he has heard testimony dating back more than 20 years of a ghostly woman appearing in the window.
Not only that, but residents have reportedly heard loud unexplained footsteps upstairs, and expressed feeling as if they are being watched.

8:15 p.m.

The boys had just gotten done unpacking an array of ghost hunting tools that would make even Casper go pale (if he had pigment to begin with). Electro Magnetic Field detectors, motion detecting video cameras, night vision and of course, lots of batteries. All that was missing was a proton pack - but alas, Christmas only comes once a year.
Altogether, the gadgets have cost the group well over $300 (rough estimate), and there is another $100 put into preparation for the average investigation. Still, Proof performs their investigations free of charge.
“This is my hobby,” Kuntz said. “If I collected stamps, would I expect someone to pay for my stamp collection?”

8:30 p.m.
The Proof crew had decided to split up into teams (as horror movies have taught them nothing). I tagged along with Holland and Kuntz, who decided to hold their first investigation inside the attic.
My fear of height, combined with my dislike of enclosed places and allergy to being eaten by attic monsters, kept me waiting patiently at the bottom of the attic steps.
“You may want to come look at this,” came Kuntz voice from above.
“Jinkies,” I thought. “Have they found a clue?”
What they had found was a brief glimpse of a creepy moving shadow that had passed by in the attic, in an area where nothing was in a position to cast a shadow. Kuntz and Holland were amused, but weren’t ready to call this case closed quite yet.

9:00 p.m.

Not much has happened yet. It turns out, ghost hunting, just like any other form of hunting, includes a lot of waiting. One notable difference is that at the end of the day, no one gets to eat ghost. Snack break to the rescue!

10:00 p.m.
The snacks are delicious. It is difficult to be scared when munching on some Chips Ahoy.
Once everyone is together, I do a quick head count to ensure that everyone had survived the first half of the ordeal. Amazingly photographer Stichka lives. I had pegged him as a “red shirt” the instant I met him.
“He’ll die one day,” I quietly assured myself. “Red shirts always die.”
Though obviously a certain amount of belief has to be involved for the Proof groups to be able to invest this much effort into an investigation, Kuntz notes that the group is far more interested in finding the truth behind a ghost story than adding fuel to any myths.
“I’d love to find any hard undeniable evidence of a ghost, but I also want to make sure we’ve taken every step to debunk it,” Kuntz said.
For the most part, Kuntz said that they have managed to debunk most of their cases. One example was with a family claiming that a ghost had been killing their fish. Upon investigation, Proof found that there had been a carbon dioxide leak near the area where the fish were kept.
Another easy to debunk ghost story are the ones involving people finding ghostly orbs in their photos.
“You want orbs? Just shake a rug and take a picture,” said Holland. “You’ll get an orb from the flash reflecting off of the dust.”

10:30 p.m.

After overhearing that the Proof group would most likely be remaining in the house until 3 a.m., I decide to call it a night. We shook hands, said our goodbyes and left, confident that nothing interesting or eventful would happen for the rest of the night. Stichka lives to die another day.

The Interesting and Eventful Stuff That Happened
As Holland had warned me, most of the good ghostly happenings happen late after midnight.
“After you guys left at about 12:45 a.m., Tim says to me, ‘did you see that?’ Over my shoulder Tim said he saw a shadow almost peer out over the staircase... I decide to switch positions so that I can spot it if it happens again,” said Holland in a more recent phone interview. “After a while, I saw this shadow peer over before moving back. We went after it, taking pictures like crazy.”
Holland said that while the group now feels that “something is going on,” in the house, they will have to do another investigation to debunk it.

*Members of Proof asked that their first names be altered so as to protect their day jobs.

Monday, November 24, 2008

Heel click

Director Dick Lumbard has performed on the Broadway stage numerous times, directed some of theater’s finest actors, and even taught Tim Allen how to dance (he had a guest spot on an episode of ABC’s “Home Improvement.”), and now he has agreed to take on what may easily rank as his proudest achievement: dancing side by side with Dance, Dance, Revolution legend, James Johnson.
This, Lumbard undoubtedly thought, was akin to winning both a Tony and an Oscar in one night. He might not have thought this, I neglected to ask him, but I’d call it a safe guess.
As we took to the dance floor in front of a floor length mirror (great for zipper checks), Lumbard first asked me about my experience.
“No one puts baby in the corner,” I growled back with a cocky sneer.
See, this line is a obscure reference to the smash hit documentary “Dirty Dancing,” starring Patrick Swayze. Only a true dance master would recognize this reference.
Being 50% Puerto Rican, I had entered the room with the safe assumption that there was no dance move that Lumbard would be able to teach me that I wasn’t already fully versed in (thanks to genetics and/or ethnic stereotyping), but then Lumbard broke out the jazz hands. Maaaan booty, it was on.
I tried to follow Lumbard’s heel clicks, hip thrusts and ball steps (yes, this is an actual move), but my body was unwilling to comply.
Finally, using some unseen power (perhaps that of grayskull?), I managed to complete a “bell click.” A bell click, for those unaware, is a special move in which one hops into the air and clicks their heels together. This move is most often done by crazy old prospectors after discovering gold, or just about anyone else who wishes to celebrate an accomplishment in the most flamboyant way possible.
Of course, if your only actual accomplishment is successfully completing a “bell click,” then you may want to follow up this celebratory dance move with a celebratory heavy drinking.
Goofiness aside, I’d like to take this opportunity to publicly thank director Dirk Lumbard, for allowing us to waste his time.

Thursday, November 13, 2008

Yep - I'm a Marxist.


"Either this man is dead or my watch has stopped."
~ Groucho Marx

Sprinkling Hot Wet News All Over Your Face.. Mm.. Taste it!


Evil Never Dies - It Just Retires

This just in from the good people in U.S. intelligence (the same folks who brought us the faulty reason for invading Iraq, and forgot to warn us about Sept. 11): Osama bin Laden lives!!! … kinda.
The agency believes that Osama bin Laden is isolated from al Qaeda and spending all of his free time surviving and probably catching up on the latest episodes of “Dancing with the Stars.” … ‘cause he’s evil.

Be Obama’s Bitch

Obama’s already doing what he can to boost employment in America - he’s hiring!
The Obama transition team will be sending a seven-page, 63-item questionnaire to every candidate for Cabinet and other high-ranking positions (uh, president is taken.)

Cool person - wearing a fedora ...

The House that Hash Built

“No sh*t, there I was …” is considered the ideal start to any Hash House Harrier’s story, so here goes.
No sh*t, there I was … trudging through swamp water and stumbling through tree brush in the middle of a downpour, all the while wearing a $171 suit. But I wasn’t about to complain, for that day I was among the infamous Hash House Harriers and therefore, among friends … Seriously though, how’d I let myself get talked into this?
The Hash House Harriers are an international social, non-competitive running and drinking club.
Seasoned Hashers will often describe the group as “a drinking club with a running problem.”
There exist more than 1,700 Hasher chapters (or kennels) throughout the world. Odds are, there‘s at least one in your own town (follow the trail of beer and vommit.)
Generally, the average trail (if there is such a thing) will take its members on a 3-mile trek through some of the roughest and dirtiest terrain available, with white markers to guide the hashers along. At random points hashers will come upon signs, telling them if there is beer nearby, giving them an alternative shortcut, or asking them to take part in a uh, physical inspection in which one player has to flash certain body parts to another player in exchange for directions (this is optional).
“It is more of a social group than anything else. It is an excuse to get out and do something with friends, meet new people and drink,” said Carolina Hashers Game Master, StrawberryShortC**k.
Though the Hashers try to remain as in line with the laws as they can (public intoxication aside), they choose to use only code names so as to protect those members whose jobs would frown on the drinking game.
“We’ve had members who have been high ranking military officers, doctors and even some lawyers,” StrawBerry explained. “The group has a kind of rude and crude sense of humor, but it’s all in good fun. The hash names range from the down right dirty to the absolutely funny.”
By the end of the trek the group gather in a circle and partake in drinking games, singing dirty songs and sporting kilts (minus the underwear, because otherwise “it’s just a skirt”).
“It is just a really fun way to get out and meet people,” said longtime hasher AllHandsOnC**t. “Right now, all the friends I have are people I’ve met hashing. They’re like a family.”
Once the trek was over, and the beer was passed out (it was hidden in a lake), I too felt like part of a family. A disgruntled, drunken family. Who can’t relate to that?

Hash House History

The Hash House Harriers have a rich history that stretches back to 1938 (mind you, these people are drinkers, so details are sketchy). It first began in Kuala Lumpur, when a group of British (no surprise there) colonial officers and expatriates began meeting after work on Monday evenings for a run, following a paper trail.
After a few months the group was approached by the Registrar of Societies (otherwise known as “the man”), who advised that the group take a break between drinks to toss together a constitution, and name themselves, thus the Hash House Harriers were born. The Internet has pretty much done the rest.

The Science of Blowing Your Mind ...

Greets,
this blog will in no way make you smarter. If anything, you may just become dumber (you may also start to grow hair where once you did not). It will update you on the day's news - on the daily - and every now and then, I'll get off my lazy (yet firm) ass and take you on a magical adventure. Uh, your welcome.