This week Crossing Polansky should be retitled Crossing-Over Polansky, as I welcome a guest blogger...or maybe I should say ghost blogger. One of the most frequent questions I get as an author is "What on earth [no pun intended]inspired you to write about the afterlife?" There's no simple answer, as paranormal historian/investigator Janice Oberding addresses here.
Why the Paranormal?
Don’t try to explain it; you’re only wasting your time. Those who aren’t interested in ghosts, ghouls, haunted houses and lonely old cemeteries, may never understand the fascination with such things. Nor should we expect them to; after all, Thoreau, we hear a different drummer. A very different drummer.
I can’t understand why anyone in his right mind, or out of it for that matter, would spend time on a golf course. But that’s just me. Oh sure, I realize that Tiger Woods, et al. have made fortunes and fame on the green. Great! But I will only be there if a haunting is involved, as it is at the Pacific Grove Links. Ducking at the sound of FORE and looking for the ghost of Emily Fish at the Point Pinos Lighthouse -- what a life! The ocean, the lighthouse and -- be still, my ghost- hunting heart -- a cemetery nearby. Can it get any better?
Well, yes, it can…in Merrie Olde England at the exact spot where Anne Boleyn lost her head after Henry VIII lost his over Jane Seymour. They say Queen Anne still walks the tower green weeping and wondering what went wrong. How’d you like to be there at the stroke of midnight to fill her in on all the details? Not your cup of Earl Grey? There’s always Jack the Ripper and the ghosts of the women he so cruelly dispatched out of this world and into the next.
Now that’s a story to really sink one’s teeth into…hmmm…yes, I’d like a chicken sandwich, large order of fries and a double cherry milkshake. To go! I will eat my lunch at the cemetery. It’s never crowded; unless some celebrity is sleeping eternally nearby…Dead or alive, celebrities never catch a break. If it’s not the prying lenses of the paparazzi, it’s some ghost-hunter begging for EVP (electronic voice phenomena). Talk to me now that you’re dead, why doncha?
It’s all good. Heath Ledger may well receive a posthumous Oscar for best supporting actor. He won’t be among the nominees squirming in their seats while the envelope is being ripped open. If he wins it will be the shortest acceptance speech on record -- Unless they hire someone like Sylvia Browne to tell us what Ledger says from the other side. Either way, the cameras won’t catch a phoney loser’s congratulatory smile or a faux-humble-me smile on Ledger’s face. His acting days are behind him.
This doesn’t mean that his money-making days are. Doubt it? Break out your Ouija board and ask Elvis Presley or Marilyn Monroe if it’s not possible to make a pile of postmortem cash. They ought to know, with nothing better to do these days than haunt locations across the country. No matter where they choose to hang out, it’s a safe bet that paranormal enthusiasts (AKA ghost-hunters) will come calling. With meters, cameras, voice recorders and other assorted tools, we explore the paranormal, wherever it leads. Even if that is to a haunted cemetery in the middle of the night. Listen…that’s not EVP…it’s the sound of a different drummer.
Why the Paranormal?
Don’t try to explain it; you’re only wasting your time. Those who aren’t interested in ghosts, ghouls, haunted houses and lonely old cemeteries, may never understand the fascination with such things. Nor should we expect them to; after all, Thoreau, we hear a different drummer. A very different drummer.
I can’t understand why anyone in his right mind, or out of it for that matter, would spend time on a golf course. But that’s just me. Oh sure, I realize that Tiger Woods, et al. have made fortunes and fame on the green. Great! But I will only be there if a haunting is involved, as it is at the Pacific Grove Links. Ducking at the sound of FORE and looking for the ghost of Emily Fish at the Point Pinos Lighthouse -- what a life! The ocean, the lighthouse and -- be still, my ghost- hunting heart -- a cemetery nearby. Can it get any better?
Well, yes, it can…in Merrie Olde England at the exact spot where Anne Boleyn lost her head after Henry VIII lost his over Jane Seymour. They say Queen Anne still walks the tower green weeping and wondering what went wrong. How’d you like to be there at the stroke of midnight to fill her in on all the details? Not your cup of Earl Grey? There’s always Jack the Ripper and the ghosts of the women he so cruelly dispatched out of this world and into the next.
Now that’s a story to really sink one’s teeth into…hmmm…yes, I’d like a chicken sandwich, large order of fries and a double cherry milkshake. To go! I will eat my lunch at the cemetery. It’s never crowded; unless some celebrity is sleeping eternally nearby…Dead or alive, celebrities never catch a break. If it’s not the prying lenses of the paparazzi, it’s some ghost-hunter begging for EVP (electronic voice phenomena). Talk to me now that you’re dead, why doncha?
It’s all good. Heath Ledger may well receive a posthumous Oscar for best supporting actor. He won’t be among the nominees squirming in their seats while the envelope is being ripped open. If he wins it will be the shortest acceptance speech on record -- Unless they hire someone like Sylvia Browne to tell us what Ledger says from the other side. Either way, the cameras won’t catch a phoney loser’s congratulatory smile or a faux-humble-me smile on Ledger’s face. His acting days are behind him.
This doesn’t mean that his money-making days are. Doubt it? Break out your Ouija board and ask Elvis Presley or Marilyn Monroe if it’s not possible to make a pile of postmortem cash. They ought to know, with nothing better to do these days than haunt locations across the country. No matter where they choose to hang out, it’s a safe bet that paranormal enthusiasts (AKA ghost-hunters) will come calling. With meters, cameras, voice recorders and other assorted tools, we explore the paranormal, wherever it leads. Even if that is to a haunted cemetery in the middle of the night. Listen…that’s not EVP…it’s the sound of a different drummer.
Janice Oberding is the author of several books on the paranormal. Visit her website at http://www.hauntednevada.com and on MySpace at http://www.myspace.com/janiceoberding. And now that your appetite for the paranormal is whetted, head on over to www.cynthiapolansky.com for a free sample chapter of novel REMOTE CONTROL and get a taste of my version of heaven (hint: lots of chocolate).
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