Alright, Harvey. Here’s another post, just to get you off my back. And enough with the “You don’t submit often enough” crap. Your output wouldn’t give anyone a nose bleed, and I’m tired of the excuse that you’re writing your memoirs. You’re a mosquito, for Pete’s sake. Who the heck’s gonna want to read your memoirs?
Anyway, with the weather the way it is, I’m not sticking my hiney out the door for anyone, least of all you, Harvey. So I’ll talk about the TV show I watched last night huddled by the heating vent.
I watched a rerun of some show called Destination Truth. The host - whatever his name is - goes around searching for supernatural stuff, or something. The only thing I was searching for during the show was another peek of him. He’s a cutie. Not as cute as George Clooney, but close enough.
So anyway, back to the show. The cutie host and his crew were in a town somewhere in Chile. Don’t ask me where. Now that I don’t travel anymore, I don’t have to keep track of anyone’s itineraries. There were a bunch of townspeople telling the crew that ghosts of miners were coming out of the ground and walking. Talk about ridiculous. Ghosts wouldn’t just get up and walk around. These people obviously don’t have a clue about the effects of arthritis. I can barely stand up after an hour in front of the TV, and I’m not even dead yet. I don’t even want to imagine how stiff those stiffs are.
The townspeople conjecture that the ghosts are roaming around because of the poor treatment they received in life.
Point A) Harvey, you’d better watch out, or I’ll be coming back for you.
Point B) Why roam around? Form a stinking union. It works for the Teamsters.
Then the TV people sat around with a special recorder that picks up on sounds no one hears. They call it an EVP. In my family, we used to call it crazy Aunt Ethel.
The most stunning thing the recorders revealed? When the cutie host was recording, he asked the ghosts questions. Is anybody here? What’s your favorite ice cream flavor? Do you like long walks on the beach? During the playback, the TV people could hear a voice respond “I am.”
Isn’t is amazing? The poverty-stricken miner ghosts have taken English at Berlitz. Talk about deep market penetration. I wonder if they get good discounts.
I traveled to Chile once, and I’ll admit, my trip might not seem that interesting compared with the TV show’s. No crawling around disembowled cemeteries at night. But then again, you never got to see these TV people sitting on Salado Bay and sipping a pisco sour. So who had it better?
Tomorrow night, I’ll be watching reruns of Magnum, P.I. You can’t beat those Tom Selleck shorts. Harvey, do you want me to talk about that too?