I’m working on a few posts… but in the meantime here’s something I wrote a while back. This event is coming up so it’s only fitting.
As a child I was attracted to all things weird. My imagination would run wild in play and was fed with obscure fodder like this. The idea of contacting ghosts or other weird beings mixed into my life a conflicted melange: a desire to discover my own spooky secret (it never happened) and a fear of any noise in the dark/while home alone/on stormy days while playing in the garage with a neighbor. The second part of this cocktail regularly caused me to scare the shit out of myself. Ghost stories, urban myths, aliens: I sucked them all up greedily. Hungrily.
I don’t feed this part of myself anymore; it doesn’t seem to get hungry much unless someone mentions something occultish or weird and then I find myself in a Wikipedia death-spiral of links starting with black-eyed children and ending with God only knows what (but I bet a Wikipedia spiral on that topic would, at some point, include something about the rectangular pupils possessed by goats.
Sometimes, though, it happens. I have a strange psychic moment that leaves me remembering an earlier version of myself standing in the woods near my parents’ house. Right near the abandoned house I was expressly forbidden to be anywhere close to. But I was alone, so who cared? Looking up at the sloped, rotting roof and perfectly crooked chimney chanting part of what was a complex imagination tableau I can no longer remember, Singer on the roof, tapping chimney. Black cat, on the moon… And that little girl in me stirs and I yearn for those creepy television shows of yore, those woods, that stomach gripping fear that would cause me to jump on my bike and race through the woods away from a mostly unseen enemy whose cold fingers were only a hair’s width from grabbing me and dragging me to some unimaginable horror..
Usually, though, it’s something mundane. Something said earlier version of myself wouldn’t even recognize as psychic but the boring, grown up me cocks an eyebrow at. Take the other night. Friday night we were at a fundraiser. It’s a huge annual fundraiser for area kids that includes a huge cash prize. $10k. Yup. Ten. Thousand. Dollars. In addition to this drawing, which takes all night (it’s a reverse raffle) there are smaller drawings all during the night. The club that puts on the fundraiser is over an hour from us and all of the smaller drawings’s prizes were from businesses located in and around it… so, really far from us. At one point I said to my girlfriend, “If we win something during this part, you can have it,”
My other girlfriend, also from out of the area but closer, said, “Um, what if it’s for something good,” to which I quipped, “I’m probably going to win a year’s worth of car washes,”
Not three minutes later (an actual near three minutes made up of nearly 180 seconds) the woman doing the drawing announces, “The next prize is for 25 car free car washes… Number 279,”. I knew that was our number. I almost knew before she called it that we were going to win. But no one was paying attention except me. Until they heard the number. And all looked at Kris and I to ask, “what did you win?”
Earlier version of me doesn’t get it, or is embarrassed that I connect this to some sort of psychic ability. I’m still scratching my head.