your halloween horoscope

Well, tomorrow is the big day! Can you believe it? All of your dreams are about to come true. All of them! Or are they? Only your horoscope knows. Or, in this case, your horospook!

ARIES: People seem to think that Halloween is a cute holiday for scarecrows and toll painted owls. It's not. It's about Satan. And death. Specifically, your death. Just think about that tomorrow. Think about it all day. Your clock is ticking.

TAURUS: OK, so you went out on a limb this year and you decided to wear a costume to work. And you settled on the Oppa Gangnam Style guy from Korea. I applaud your bravery, but did you know that Oppa Gangnam was a thing last year? It's not a thing this year. But good on you for doing a costume! That's a huge step! Awesome. Most people will like your costume. Except all the people that wore it last year.

GEMINI: Three words for you: Bobbing for Apples. I think we both get it.

CANCER: I can't wait to see what you dress up like this year, but odds are you'll be wearing that Gandolf the Grey wig I loaned you back in '09. Oops! I think you forgot to return it and you seem to have incorporated it into every costume since then. Even last year, when you were "Oppa Gandolf Style." Well, have fun this year. Let me guess: Minas Cyrus?

LEO: Keep it up with that Roman Soldier costume. You are killing it. Maybe show more leg.

VIRGO: Halloween is a time of memories. And boy do you have some! Remember that awesome time when you and your sister were staying at a big house in the woods and crazy old Mrs. Aylwood thought you were her daughter Karen? And then a bell fell on you during a solar eclipse? Man, I wish we had pictures of that.

LIBRA: You really can't risk eating all of that candy this year. Combine that with donuts and it's just going to be a gas storm with you. You know how you are! Why not try keeping a bag of Ritz Crackers on you - just in case a popcorn ball gets shoved in front in your face? Pop a cracker instead. You'll thank me later when you aren't popping Beanos and sobbing in horror.

SCORPIO: So, I know this is weird, but...do you sleep in a coffin? I heard that. It's probably not true. It's probably something some jerk made up. It's just...I remember that time when I woke up and you were sucking on my neck. And when I gasped aloud I saw you run back and climb into a coffin. I have the craziest dreams, though. So it was all a big dream, right?

SAGITTARIUS: Oh please. You're going as a "sexy witch" again? Remember last year when you were a "sexy nurse" and the year before when you were "Vincent van Ho?" Enough with the sexy costumes! We get it. You are hot. Take your trashy costume down to the UVU Halloween dance where people will appreciate it. Just don't blame me if you wind up with a sketchy new boyfriend who lives at Wolverine Crossing.

CAPRICORN: This isn't meant to be a criticism, but nobody believes your story about the ghost in your computer. You should know that. That wasn't a ghost in your computer sending you a message, it was your mom and that's called facebook chat. Seriously, there's something wrong if your mom understands facebook chat and you don't. You should take a computer class. From your mom!

AQUARIUS: I'm sorry that when you close your eyes you keeping hearing Madame Leota from The Haunted Mansion ride saying "Serpents, and spiders, tail of a rat...call in the spirits, wherever they're at!" You and I know that it's incorrect English to end a sentence with a preposition, but Madame Leota doesn't, and my kids don't. So don't go ruining our Haunted Mansion experience with your grammar, Lady Schoolmarm. Get over it. It's a rhyme! She's been saying that since 1969 and her tambourine is still shakin.'

PISCES: Are you still singing "The Monster Mash?" Dude, have you heard "Halloween Spooks" by Lambert, Hendricks & Ross? You're welcome.

Scared Stiff

So you've probably noticed that we here at Part Time Authors we have an affinity for the month of October - the weather, the food, and the tradition of telling a haunted tale or two. Well, with Halloween coming up this week, I'm going to tell just one more spooky story. 

(I’ll give you a minute to dim the lights and turn on some creepy music.  And your fog machine.)

If you’ll journey back with me … about four years ago … almost exactly to the day…

The weather is finally pleasant in Las Vegas during the month of October; and as is custom on warm evenings, Katie and I were sleeping above the covers on the night of this spine-tingling event.

It was not an unusual night, by any means. The kids had fought us on going to bed at a reasonable hour, we’d eaten ice cream, and The Office was not as funny as it had once been. By all signs, situation normal.

However, sometime just after 2 a.m., I suddenly woke up, almost in a jolt. But though I was awake, I found it impossible to move. As one would expect at that hour, the house was silent and still. But it was more silent and still than ever. The overwhelming feeling I had was that I was under water. My hearing was deafened, muffled.  I couldn’t breathe. And I could not so much as lift a finger. It was if my body was pinned down, even being pushed into the bed. Being suffocated by nothing more than the pressure of the atmosphere around me.

I made a conscious effort to sit up, as if raising my torso would immediately provide oxygen. With tremendous effort I tried to lift my head.  But still nothing budged.

I could feel Katie lying next to me; her body only inches from me, sleeping peacefully as if absolutely nothing life-threatening was going on next to her.

I became panicked and again exerted all the energy of my being to raise myself to a sitting position. Though incredibly sluggish, I could finally feel some hint of movement. I felt like I was far below the surface in a large body of water, trying in slow-motion to reach the surface for that first breath.  But it felt like I would never make it.

After what seemed like several death-defying minutes, I pulled through the thick air and sat all the way up, taking in a large gulp of air, and then another. My pulse was racing and I was even perspiring. I had no explanation for what’d just happened, but I didn’t feel any sense of impending doom or fear. The room felt clear and where it was once dark, I could see the outline of the room through the light that came in the window.  I rolled over and cuddled up to Katie, putting my chin on her shoulder and my arm around her body. She mumbled something incoherent, but I recognized it as a, “Are you ok?” kind of a mumble. My heart slowed down, and I fell back asleep.

The next morning I told Katie what had happened. Neither of us knew what to make of it. We never discussed it again. Fact is, I’d never discussed it with anyone until recently, when I was visiting with my brother, Dehn.

We were at dinner and Dehn happened to tell me about a companion he’d had on his LDS mission in Japan. He explained a time when his companion had awakened, frozen to his bed. It was essentially the same thing I had experienced four years ago. His companion, who was Japanese, told Dehn that it was something that occurred quite regularly throughout his life. This was also the case with other Japanese missionaries that Dehn talked to.

After I told Dehn the experience I had, he pointed me in a direction where I could read more about it – in fact, a magical place where I could read more about anything! This fairyland place is called Wikipedia. It’s on the Interwebs.

It turns out this kind of event is called sleep paralysis.

According to Ripley’s Believe It or Wikipedia, sleep paralysis can last from several seconds to several minutes, and in some rare cases (generally following a post-Thanksgiving dinner food-coma), up to several hours! Doctors, scientists, and drug addicts have also acknowledged that sleep paralysis may be accompanied by terrifying, vivid hallucinations and an acute sense of danger. (Uhm, no doi!)

Evidently some of the causes of sleep paralysis include narcolepsy, increased stress, sudden environmental/lifestyle changes, or excessive consumption of alcohol coupled with lack of adequate sleep. (You can Google "sleep paralysis" and read all about it.)

It was of course comforting to find an explanation of something that had truly felt inexplicable – even if the resolution was less paranormal than I had anticipated, and more of a physiological occurrence. 

The Nightmare, by Henry Fuseli (1781) is thought to be one of the classic depictions 

of sleep paralysis perceived as a demonic visitation.

The 5 Scariest GIFs on the Internet

I don't have much to say except a) don't watch these if you get scared easily and b) don't let your kids watch these with you. Happy Halloween!

Scariness below.







I'll start you off simple. This is first one is me and my daughter. We were shooting a little short film for the "It's Only a Movie: Short Horror Film Festival" on Oct. 29th in Spanish Fork and during this scene our dogs kept walking up and down the hall with their clickity-clack claws. It was like 10:30 pm and we had been shooting since 4 pm and I was getting bugged. Then a demon possessed me.







Next we have a little girl playing with a Jack-in-the-Box. What, for the love of all that is unholy, could come springing out of there, I wonder?

Now imagine you're driving down a dark road in a creepy forest. You are extra careful because the tree limbs look like they could reach out and grab you. You come to a stop and think you see something just above you to the left ...

Oh, hey! Your sweet daughter wants to wave at you! She also says she's been talking to a friend.

This one? This one just might be the freakiest one I found because ... Pepsi.

(I found these here.)

Spooky Books

I hope this week hasn't been too scary for you. That photo of Topher from 150 years ago dressed as a bug haunts my dreams. Apropos of insectile costumes, Topher and I were in a production of Richard III once where all the characters' costumes were based on bugs. Topher was some sort of water beetle, I think, and I was his servant. A butler flea? I don't know. Our scene was him bathing and me washing him (this was at BYU, so don't get any ideas) and him talking about his fear of death. Then I left and some people came in and drowned him. Oh, Shakespeare!!

Anyway, in our continuing effort to get you in the mood for next weeks spooky festivities, I wanted to share some great scary books to keep you up at night. Enjoy! (PS. If you are reading this on a mobile device or through an RSS reader you might have to switch to the desktop site to see this.)

The Scariest Books I Never Read

Sometimes on Monday night my wife and I will discuss what I should be blogging about for the next day. Last night, as she cleaned up the mess she made making dinner for the whole family, I encouraged her by reading Ken's Post aloud.  It was a great post and got us in the mood to share a good spooky story. But upon further discussion we learned neither of us have a really great scary story in either of our pockets.  I mean, there was one time when the Devil was flying his helicopter through our front door and luckily Lindsay woke me up to inform me it was happening and shoved me out of bed to hurry and go lock the door...the door that the Devil was flying a helicopter into (hope that dead bolt holds!).  Upon further discussion, turns out it wasn't real, but just a dream.  So it really didn't stand up to Kens ghost picture (which you'll notice he quickly threw away as to teach us the principle of faith that said picture exists...those Craig's are always trying to teach you something).

I wonder why I have not been chosen for a phanstamic tale?  I am as gullible as anyone and I have a wild imagination that gets the best of me almost every day. And yet, I still don't have a creepy, skin crawly story that disperses shutters at its utterance.  

Boo. 

Not the scary way...the sad way.

Luckily there are good scary stories out there and those stories are in books and I've read lots of books and my wife has read, like a Brazilian more than me! (Brazilians are known for their vast knowledge of literature) And she told me about two scary books that I wanted to tell you about, cause you probably didn't know about them, and that's what this blog is all about: Educating idiots.

First book: Jane Eyre

So I guess there's this all proper and appropriate lady, probably Jane, who, like hears something in the attic, but then she's all responsible and doesn't get all wrapped up in whatever is up there. And I guess she loves this guy but he's all married, but that might have been a secret, I don't know, I've never read it and my wife just gave me a small smattering of details, but I've gone a head and filled in the gaps.  So Jane loves this married guy, and it's, like, in olden days so that kind of crap was real edgy.  Jane is all no nonsense and she doesn't see a way to get married so she makes other plans, but then as it turns out the sounds she is hearing in the attic is this guys wife and then (because it's a scary story) she burns down the whole house with her in it!!!  BLAAH HA HA HA!!  Though, this does give Jane the opportunity marry the man whose previous history with women was to shut them up in the attic until they burn themselves up. I'm sure they made it, though.

Second Book:Wuthering Heights

I mean this one has it all, unrequited love, crazy ladies and death...I guess the last story had it all too! So there is the guy, Heathcliff and I guess he's super hot and this lady, Cathy super loves him and I think he loves her but then he marries this other lady and because it's olden times, and he must have been literally the only man on earth, Cathy dies of a broken heart. Anyway, Cliffy is real sad to, but he doesn't die over it and then in the terrifying conclusion, Heathcliff is hanging out upstairs and who pops up at the window but Dead Cat, whose all tapping and crying, 'Heathcliff, it's me your Cathy, I've come home, let me ina your window'  That scene is depicted here:

Wuthering Heights the Movie          

Uh...no. don't keep reading...click that link and watch it, it's real hard for me to set up links so when I do I need you to follow them.  Go on! I'll wait.

Alright, so those are your two scary stories from me and my wife...well, mostly me, I mean she didn't even know I was interviewing her for this post...I didn't even know or I would have taken some notes or listened.  But I do want you to know that I promise you that I didn't even pull up a synopsis of either book before I presented them to you as fact. THAT'S the kind of hard hitting journalism you've come to expect from PTA.

I do have a question for you, though: Last night my wife told me that there are two kinds of girls in the world, there are Jane's and there are Cathy's...she later amended that to say there are two kinds of girls who read books in this world. And I wondered if that was true or what that even means, lets talk about it on Facebook because I'll tell you, it was hard to hear her over the roar of the water as she was loudly washing my dishes.

Indecently, she said she was a Cathy. Is that a good thing? 

Who Ya Gonna Call?

There are some human beings who are dimly aware of their own deaths, yet have chosen to stay on in what used to be their homes, to be close to surroundings they once held dear. – Hans Holzer

No matter your theological, scientific, or pop culture beliefs regarding ghosts, apparitions, phantoms, or specters – I think we can all agree on one thing: They are spook-a-roo!

It’s the very witching time of October, and with the rest of the country, my thoughts have turned to all things chilling and foreboding. And if you feel there should be more daunting things demanding my attention, then, yes, Mr. Scrooge of Halloween, I guess there should be. But tales of strange sights, haunted spots and twilight superstitions are indeed remarkable around this most peculiar of seasons.

I was 12 years old the first time I saw a ghost.

Or whatever it was.

My brother, Justin, and I had taken a book out from the Thousand Oaks Library that listed “actual” haunted houses throughout the country. Merely seeing that there was a list (an extensive list, I might add) of these locations immediately gave us what scientists have classified as “ an acute case of the heebie jeebies.” When our reading of this book happened to coincide with a family trip to San Diego, Justin and I straight away looked up which haunted houses were located in San Diego.

The Whaley House.

If you are not familiar with the Whaley House, it is a substantial, well-constructed edifice, built in the 1800s. Since its completion it has served not only as the Whaley Family home, but a granary, the County Court House, San Diego’s first commercial theater, a general store, a billiard hall, a school, a polling place, and a Starbucks. (No, not really a Starbucks.)

There were a number of hangings which occurred on the property before the house was ever constructed, and Violet Whaley killed herself in the home in 1885. According to the Travel Channel’s America’s Most Haunted, the house is the number one most haunted house in the United States.

I don’t think I need to tell you that my brother and I begged my dad to take us to the Whaley House. Pleaded with the man. He finally agreed, but had no intention to pay for the entire family to go. He just sent Justin and I on the tour.

The house was dusty, and despite being with a tour group, it was eerily quiet. Nobody was cracking wise about seeing anything, and nobody openly made fun. Nobody levitated either, but there was an ominous feeling to the place. For the most part, it was a short tour and that was it. We followed the tour path easy enough, as it was blatantly marked, and all the rooms were protected behind glass, so you couldn’t get close and touch anything. Each room contained original furniture from the late 1800s as well as some replicas. Very museum like. So we snapped as many photos as we could, so we had proof we had been there and could check it off on our new List of American Haunted Houses We Want to Visit.

We got our pictures developed about a week later and were thumbing through them together as we discussed how brave and awesome we were going on that tour by ourselves. When unexpectedly, we both went silent. We were both fixated.

There…in a photo of one of the bedrooms…was something that hadn’t been there on the tour. It was a phantasm. It was the almost see-through figure of a woman, dressed elegantly from that time period when the house was a bustling, central part of San Diego. She wore a black dress and a black dress-hat with a wide brim. And she was staring right at us. Her expression was one as if we had caught her off guard.

My acute case of the heebie jeebies had now become flat out panic. We threw out the photo, and the next time we went to the library, I checked out Superfudge, Otherwise Known As Sheila the Great, and The Fantastic Mr. Fox. And life was less spooky once again.

Anticipating Autumn

What I love most about Fall is how different its approach feels than any other season.

With Spring, things begin to warm up slowly, there's the blossoms, and then all of a sudden it's 90 degrees and we're into Summer. Winter seems to happen abruptly as well. They're all beautiful in their own way, sure, but there's nothing better than the way Fall sneaks up on you. One day you're basking in the heat of late summer, and the next you wake up and there is a chill in the air, a feeling like something wonderful is about to happen. From that day on, you wear a jacket everywhere. You bust out your boots. The tip of your nose gets cold when you walk any farther than 25 yards. The heater kicks on.

It's that feeling that triggers all the others to burst out suddenly, almost unexpected, like fireworks on July 6th. It's the Halloween excitement. Fall TV premieres coupled with hope and anxiety. Amazement at the beauty of dying leaves. School nerves. Music that seems to fit better in crisp temperatures. The comfort that comes from crackling fires and the joy of frothy hot chocolate. Can you feel that? That's Fall.

For me, it's the season that induces anticipation like none else. And a sense of urgency. Like it's saying "You'd better get in all you hoped to, I don't know how long I'll be here. The snows of Winter are coming to take you hostage for five months."

So, I love Fall. And I know it when I feel it.

If you want to keep reading, here's a poem I wrote in 2003 about Fall:

Wishful Maple

When I die, everyone will notice. I want to make a scene. I am going to strip myself naked. Slowly. Piece by piece. Standing proud, limbs unsheathed, I'll shiver one last time and splatter red all over the yard. A timely pre-winter whisper will be my cue to come apart. When it is my time to die, the guard will drop and gravity will take over, slowly. It is possible my brilliant remains will be left on the knobby ground to rot. Or maybe, they will be swept into a crispy colorful pile, used as an itchy nap-time mattress or haunted hiding place and then cremated, autumnal ashes reaching a hundred nostalgic noses

clark family costumes, 2012

Miles and Owen left at the crack of dawn for junior high and high school. Owen is Doctor Who, and apparently he touches his glasses a lot? I don't watch the show, but Owen did this in every photo I took. Miles is "the medic from Team Fortress 2," which is apparently some kind of video game. If you already knew who this character is I will pay you one million dollars. Anyway, when I was in junior high and high school I would have NEVER dressed up for Halloween; it was not cool at all. But I guess they all do now. Times have changed. It's fun for teens to be hipster and ironic and dress up like things you've never heard of.

This is Hugh and Phoebe dressed up like Mario and Luigi. There are many things that please me about this. First, I'm proud that they wanted to be something together. Secondly, I think it's awesome that Phoebe doesn't mind being a boy for Halloween - she doesn't need to be a princess or a pop star. Third, these dudes know how to work a pose. Seriously, this took no coaching. My babies can smize.

This is probably the best picture I've ever taken. This is my Diane Arbus contribution to the world of Instagram. For reals, Margaret! She posed like this only briefly, but it was just enough time to capture the genius. Look at that blob of a mouth! Where is her actual chin? What's happening with her left hand? Why the wide stance? Eyebrows? Everything just came together perfectly. I couldn't improve it. Margaret was dressed as a witch, incidentally.

Oh, that's just me dressed up like Bane. I always try to think of costumes that utilize a bald head, but this year I also wanted to work in my new C-PAP mask. So it was a no brainer! I'm sorry you can't see my knee pads or my burly boots, but Instagram only does square pictures and there is NO way around it. But you can imagine it. Those are belts around my chest - they were fun at 9 this morning, but not so fun at 2:30 when I'm sitting at my desk at work. I suffer for my art.

What did you dress up like? Was it awesome? Happy Halloween!!!

A Trip to the Coroner

Years ago I was serving in my LDS ward as the president of the Young Men’s organization. As most of you are aware, this involves teaching lessons on Sundays, planning activities for Wednesdays, and having sixteen year-olds come by your house at any given moment without prior warning, whether your pregnant wife is wearing pants or not. (Have you BEEN in Las Vegas during the summer? Pants are superfluous.)

It was the witching month of October and we were planning some activities for the month. One of the young men suggested we visit the Clark County Coroner’s Office, under the guise of “studying different professions in the Las Vegas Valley,” but really so that we could all get properly freaked out.

I had never seen the young men get so excited about an activity. Except when they planned a Scouting “High Adventure” camp to California that included Six Flags Magic Mountain, a Dodger game, a trip to the beach, and a hamburger eating contest at Tommy’s. But I digress.

We all became quite giddy about this idea. Somewhere in my mind – the part of my mind where I am still a teenager – I imagined this whole thing to be, in a word, AWESOME. The next day I called the office to arrange a tour. I talked to Steve, the “Head Coroner,” and asked if it would be okay for us to take a tour. Unfazed, he agreed. I told him that we would like to come by around 7 p.m., and he explained that he wouldn’t be there, but he would let the “Night Coroner” know we were coming by.

We pulled up to the Coroner’s Office just as the sun was setting. The parking lot was deserted. The building looked decrepit. And this was not the wealthiest neighborhood in town. I imagine they set up the Coroner’s Office here so that they could be near business. The way ice cream trucks drive through young neighborhoods. I looked at this building and thought, “The dead people in that building are the lucky ones.”

We walked up to the front door and knocked. And knocked. And knocked. Nobody. I pulled out my cell phone and called the number I had. A gentleman answered. I assumed it was the Night Coroner that Steve had told me about.

“Hello?” he said.

“Yes, hello…John?”

“Yes.”

“Hi, this is Ken Craig.”

“Yes.” (Clearly my name was not getting me in the door.)

“Uhm, did Steve tell you I would be by with some youth from my church?”

“No.” (Clearly this was the end of our discussion.)

“Oh. Well, we’re here.”

“Why?”

“Well, we are looking at different professions throughout the valley, and the youth were interested in seeing the County Coroner’s Office.”

“Why?” (Completely incredulous.)

“It’s just something different than anything they’ve studied, and they’re interested.”

(Long pause.) “Why?”

“Are you going to let us in?”

“Uhm…I’ll be there in a second.”

We waited. He finally opened the door and actually peeked out at us before opening the door all the way. Like HE should be afraid of US. Dude, you work with dead bodies for a living! He stepped out into the twilight, and you should have seen this guy. He looked like he needed a good chiropractor. His alignment was off, and one shoulder was higher than the other. Also, and I am not making this up, one of his eyes wandered…just a bit. If he had wrung his hands together and mumbled “Walk this way,” I would have wet myself right there in front of teenagers.

“Well, let’s enter through the back, where the gurneys are brought in.”

(Gulp) “Uh…okay.”

Once inside, we are standing in what is essentially a garage; where the ambulances and other vehicles back in to drop off the gurneys. The gurneys with dead bodies. The guy half-throws his arms in the air and says, “Well, what is it you’re interested in hearing about? The science of it? The forensics?” And just like that, our young men turn yellow. Suddenly they are mute, and they are looking at the ground, shuffling their feet, as if they were at a Stake Dance. Now I feel like some kind of sick-o. Like this guy’s suspicions of how weird we are, are suddenly validated. “So, you came to see the dead bodies, did you?! Well LOOK AT THEM! DID YOU GET A GOOD LOOK!? SICK-O!”

So I start making-up questions. And this guy holds nothing back. Launches into everything from which bodies come to the coroner’s office (homicides, suicides, and accidental deaths), who investigates them, weird deaths he’s seen, how the bodies are weighed, etc. And then…the moment you’ve all been waiting for…he takes us into The Cooler. There are about half a dozen dead bodies on gurneys, a wafer thin sheet covering them. I can still see some of them to this day. A female with long red hair that looked like it had been brushed up – so that her face was covered, but you saw all this red hair coming out the top. She had to have been in her thirties, I’m guessing. Long fingernails. Next to her was a man with bullet holes down the side of his body. And if the visuals weren’t bad enough…the smell. My gosh, the smell. It gave your gag reflexes a workout.

Behind the room we were in was another cooler room. The Cooler Part 2: This Time It’s Personal. This room was for bodies that had not yet been identified and had been there for quite some time.

“What’s the longest you’ve kept an unidentified body?” I asked.

“Well,” he started, “we got a new Head Coroner last year, and when he found out we had bodies in there for OVER 20 YEARS he ordered us to have them buried.”

“I see.” I answered. “Who’s ready for that hamburger eating contest?”

He showed us another room where the Coroners work on bodies that are unidentifiable when they are brought in. To the point where families are not allowed to get an up-close look-see. There is video equipment in the room, and the coroner works on the body while the family watches from another room, removed from the upsetting nature of being so close.

Afterwards he took us into the business office area of the building and gave us a good talking to. He explained to the boys that it takes a special kind of person to go into coroner work. (Very special, I’m sure.) And he discouraged them from doing it, talking about horrible things that he’d seen. He answered a few questions from us, and then got a phone call about a body coming in. How many total did that make for a Wednesday in October? Seventeen. Seventeen bodies in one day. And that was before the night was over. Take THAT CSI.

Our trip that year had become legendary among the young men. And the next year, of course, there was an entirely new crop of young men anxious to be equally freaked-out. So we called and made the appointment. You could feel the energy on the way down to the place. When we got there, they escorted us all into a large room, showed us a short video, told us about the profession, and that was it. No tour. No dead bodies. The best I could figure was that the previous year we had caught Night Coroner John off-guard that fateful night, and not really knowing what else to do, he gave us a tour that the public is not generally privy to.

When I went up to our speaker at the end of his presentation I said, “How come we didn’t get the tour? We were here last year with John, and he gave us a full tour.”

“Who?” he asked, his eyes growing big.

“John,” I answered. “John, the Night Coroner. He gave us a tour last year.”

“That’s impossible,” the man said. “We don’t have a Night Coroner.”

“Well, you did then. He had one shoulder higher than the other, wandering eye, mustache…”

The man’s face went pale and he sat down. “You’re talking ‘bout Ol’ John McNeil,” he whispered. He was a Night Coroner all right. He died…10 years ago!”

Okay, so I made up that last part about John being dead 10 years ago. But could you imagine if he were? That would be AWESOME! 

Some "Scary" Homemade Videos by Yours Truly

I love scary stories, urban legends and slasher movies. Some years ago, my wife and I made a music video that is a tribute to all three.

Amelia and I were happy to work together to plan, shoot, make-out and stay up late to make this thing come together. Amelia came up with the song, concept and costumes, of course. We shot it by ourselves using available light and stacks of books, chairs, tool boxes and the hood of our car for a tripod. I then quickly had to learn how to use iMovie and edit it together. If the video doesn't play, you can watch it here.




Also, in 2006(?) we quickly tried to shoot enough footage to make a zombie movie out of some awesomeness from our toddler. You may or may not get the gist but she sure is adorably creepy when she whispers, "Join us!" and tickles me to death.

Happy Halloween, readers!

Haunted Tracks

About 100 years ago when I was a freshman in college, I decided I needed a really wicked mix tape to listen to during the Halloween Season. I wanted music that sounded spooky or had spooky themes, but that wasn't The Monster Mash (Because doesn't that song make you want to fill your ear canals with candy corns and then let small children eat your ears?) My friends and I loved to drive around at night aimlessly and tell each other scary stories. And thus the Halloween Mix was born. Many of the songs I already had in my collection (and remember, it was the 90s, so yes, there is some Squirrel Nut Zippers and some Cranberries all up in here.) But some I gleaned from that magical Jukebox in the sky, Napster. I spent an afternoon searching for terms like "ghost" or "werewolf" to see what would pop up.

Over the years it has become sort of a soundtrack of Halloween. I'll go over to friends houses and hear it playing in the background. People have added to it or taken away, but it is a good foundation of Halloween Themed Songs for your next 90s-Themed Halloween Party. Enjoy!


A few songs that are on the original but didn't make this list because they weren't available on Spotify:
Transylvania Concubine by Rasputina (which I believe came from the Buffy the Vampire Slayer soundtrack)
Grim Grinning Ghosts by The Barenaked Ladies. Wow, it just gets more and more 90s. (I did replace this one with a different version.)
Scary by Bjork. I have no idea where this song came from.
Witching Hour by Squirrel Nut Zippers. Because what says 1998 more than three SNZ songs on your mix tape?

So - what did I miss? How can I update this so it doesn't sound like I should be wearing hiking boots and a flannel shirt when I listen to it? Share your suggestions in the comments and I will update the Spotify List so that everyone gets to hear them.

The Case of the Unresolved Footsteps

I am following Chris' theme from last week, regarding ominous and personal, unsettling tales. I am not the avid Ghost Hunter that Mr. Clark is; and truthfully, Chris is more confident about the social agendas of ghosts and their lounging about... I suppose I am undecided. However, that being said...

The year was 1995. Katie and I were married that August and we were living in Provo, Utah that fall, where we attended the BYU. To help Katie’s family, we had agreed to live in the basement apartment of Katie’s grandfather's house. It was a yellow, two-story house on 50 East, right behind the Brick Oven, where the pasta bar became all-you-can-eat-for-half-price after 9 p.m. Rather capacious for the location, and quite outdated in comparison to the new student apartments across the street, the house looked out of place.

Katie’s grandfather had experienced a number of strokes in his old age and was not the picture of health. He could barely move on his own and required others to help him bathe, eat, and change his clothing. He didn’t need any help going to the bathroom, however, because he did that wherever and whenever he pleased.

Though the bedrooms were on the second story, to help Grandpa get around, he and his sleeping arrangements had been moved to the main floor. The four bedrooms upstairs were spacious, along with a full bathroom and several sizeable closets that were used for either storage or just left empty. With nobody living up there, and no maids, the upstairs was always very still and dusty. It was like nobody had been up there since 1857, when the Saints built the first two-story house in Provo. (I didn't fact check any of that last sentence.)

The main floor featured the front room, where Grandpa spent most of his time watching television and spitting out his pills that we had given him about 5 minutes earlier, with a dining room and a kitchen behind the front room. Off to the side was a parlor that had been turned into Grandpa’s bedroom. Our basement apartment was directly under his bedroom. There was a set of stairs that went up from the back of our apartment into the kitchen on the main floor, and that was the path we usually traveled to go up and check on Grandpa and take care of him.

Once, in the middle of the night, Grandpa fell out of bed. Turned out he was coherent enough to recognize he had to go to the bathroom and wanted to try and make it on his own, bless him. Unfortunately, he got as far as sitting up in bed…then he sort of just fell out of it and onto the floor. The thud woke me up and I went upstairs, hoisted him up off the floor, checked his diaper, and put him back in bed. As I walked back down the stairs from the kitchen to the basement, it dawned on me how wise we were to live in the basement; strategically so, as we could hear Grandpa on such occasions. 

We had lived in the apartment just shy of two months when one of the most unsettling things took place one evening, ‘round midnight.

Katie and I were going to bed and had most likely just finished chatting about how nobody could possibly ever be in love as much as us, and even though we were newlyweds, we would totally act the same giddy way our whole lives, because we were awesome and we would always find each others’ belches endearing and everything we did would be cute forever and ever. We had been lying there in the dark, silently, for those few minutes before one drifts off to sleep, when abruptly, there were five distinct, deliberate, and pounding footsteps running across the floor above us. We both shot up in bed, looked at each other, and shouted “What was THAT?!”

I physically jumped out of bed. “Did you hear that?!”

“Was that right above us?!” asked my panicked wife.

“That couldn’t have been Grandpa,” I said. “I hoisted him off the floor the other night. He’s like an enormous sack of Hogi Yogi. That was something else. SOMEBODY IS IN THE HOUSE.”

Having almost drifted off for the night and then to be shocked into a state of panic, my adrenaline was really hummin’. I ran up the back stairs, through the kitchen, and into Grandpa’s room. He didn't budge. Still snoring, wrapped under his blankets, he was unaware of anything. I did a lap around the main floor – through the front room, the dining room, the kitchen – I saw no signs of anything. My nerves were on fire!

I grabbed the fireplace poker, and I took off up the stairs. I could almost hear the people yelling at my movie screen “Don’t go up the stairs!!!!! You’ll kill yourself!!!!”

I didn't turn on any lights, for fear of giving away my exact location to the intruder. I ran into every bedroom and closet, ripping the doors open, each time fully expecting to confront somebody.  When I tore open the final door to reveal absolutely nothing, I paused only for a second before the horrible thought came to me, “He’s run down the back stairs into my apartment and he has Katie!” Faster than I had run up the stairs, I ran back down, through the kitchen, down another flight of stairs and into my little apartment.

There was Katie, sitting up in bed with the covers pulled up to her chin.“Who is it? Who was there?”

“There’s nobody there. There is not one soul in this house except us and Grandpa.”

I went back up and took a more calculated and leisure trip through the house, paying more attention to detail and looking to see if there were any small signs of disturbance. I couldn't see a thing.

It was a few weeks after that, when we were relating this experience to some of Katie’s family. Her mom had sat silently through our story, but afterwards pulled us aside.  It was then she told us that her brother, Katie’s uncle, used to live in that very basement apartment, years before us. He had moved back home as an adult, due to some struggles with emotional and mental imbalances – some very real issues with depression. He had killed himself in that very apartment.  

Delicious McCandy

If you and I are going to be friends, there is something you should know about me. I am, hands down, the biggest sucker for new things. This truthfully applies to a number of areas in my life, but today I am specifically referring to my interest in what’s trending in the candy department.

Many are the moments I am standing in line at the grocery store when I notice a new confection that almost causes me to have a hernia right there in the express lane. Have you noticed that during the holiday season (October through December) the candy-bar industry takes a very real interest in launching variations on their already existing delectables? Words fail me in expressing the joy that has entered my life from the delights of Milky Way Caramel Apple, White Chocolate Candy Corn M&Ms, and Cherry Chocolate Kisses.

And I am a helpless pawn in the candy-bar game, because I will fall for whatever they put in front of me that looks new. If I were standing in line at the store and I saw a new Hershey bar called “Chocorubbernougat: milk chocolate, creamy nougat, and burnt rubber tires” my eyes would bug out, I would snatch it up with great fervor, and I would think to myself “Wow! Nougat AND burnt rubber?! HOW has nobody thought of this BEFORE?! Sure, I wouldn't eat a car tire on its own, but with chocolate and nougat, it must be delicious!” And then I would buy two of them.

What will shock you even more is to hear that it was only a couple of years ago that I tried my first McRib. McDonald’s McRib sandwich, while not technically new, was a “food” that I’d had in my peripheral vision since I was a child, but had never tried. When I was young and impressionable I was convinced it had to be the ultimate food stuff. I mean…ribs! Ribs and French fries! C’mon!

But I grew up in southern California, where In-N-Out reigned supreme as the reason hamburgers were even invented, so there was never a reason to frequent McDonalds. And now, with my own family, we also patronized our local In-N-Out.

So I decided it was time to try the McRib. Katie’s feelings towards McDonalds became crystal clear when, after a commercial for the McRib, I mentioned I was thinking of getting one for lunch the next day. “What?! You might as well go to a strip club!” she said.

I assumed she was being facetious, so went anyway. (To McDonalds, not the strip club. Though I did notice the McLap Dances on the Dollar Menu. Oh, Las Vegas. Why?) I was almost giddy with the anticipation of eating my very special rib sandwich, a meal 25 years in the making. I went to lunch by myself that day, as it felt like something I should do alone. Like going to the bathroom or listening to Wham! I went through the drive-thru and placed my order.

“Medium Fries and a McRib, please.”

“Would you like to try an Eggnog shake today?”

A WHAT-nog? Could this be a new shake, available for a limited time only? Oh, sister, I pray you aren’t toying with me. It’s like she knew about my weakness. “WOULD I!” I answered. A McRib sandwich and an Eggnog shake! This was going to be the best lunch ever!

I found the nearest empty parking lot and pulled over, directly. I removed the goodness from the cardboard container and marveled at how messy it looked. I sunk my teeth into the McStuff and…and…I was pretty much underwhelmed. I mean…it was exactly how you would imagine it to taste. Maybe there was too much pressure for it to really measure up. Maybe I was expecting too much from McDonalds. Or maybe…just MAYBE... if you combined it with burnt rubber tire! Mmm…the McRubberRib. It has to be good!  

P.S. Please inform me of what other candy-liciousness I may need to be made aware of! I don’t want to miss anything!

Do You Want to Sleep Tonight?

I have a bit of a love/ hate relationship with scary movies. I love them in the sense that I LOVE THEM.  And I hate them in the sense that after I watch them I am terrified and can't sleep for the next six months. My wife hates scary movies, which means when I watch them, I am usually alone, or on a business trip, or up way too late when she has already gone to bed. Which makes me more freaked out.

So since it is the Halloween season, I present to you my top 7 (couldn't think of 10 and couldn't narrow it down to 5) movies that scared me and kept me up at night (in no particular order.)


1. Drag Me to Hell - This is kind of more campy scary, but oh so delightful. It is the story of a nice girl who works in a bank and one day, as she tries to be more assertive and tough to get a promotion, denies a loan to a nice old lady who turns out to be a messed up gypsy who curses her. It's gory and hokey and has lots of jump out of your skin type scares.

2. Wait Until Dark -  I guess this is more of a mystery than a horror movie. All I know is that I watched in in high school in the room above my friends garage and there were several moments where we screamed really loud. It's an oldy, but a classic. Audrey Hepburn is a blind woman who is terrorized by a criminal who thinks there is a doll stuffed with Heroin hidden in her house. The last 20 min are unreal.

3. The Ring - Even doing a Google Image search for that picture freaked me out. This movie is about a woman investigating a video tape (remember those?) that if you watch it, you die within seven days. This movie messed me up. I was scared of it for about the next 6 months. I remember seeing this with my wife (it must have been while we were still dating and she was trying to woo me) and at one point in the movie she turned to me and said "You need to calm down." This movie was full of creepy, twisted imagery that sticks with you. Spooktastic.

4. Night Of The Living Dead - This is the original zombie movie before zombie were cool and hip. I saw it in black and white one Halloween night after coming home from trick or treating. My older brother was watching it in the basement and I don't think my parents knew I was watching it with him (I was probably about 9.) I remember becoming physically ill I was so scared. That scene where the little girl comes to life and (spoiler alert) kills her mother with a garden spade. Too much.

5. Insidious - This movie came out a few years ago and I think was pretty overlooked but it was great. It is the story of a family who moves into a house which they quickly discover is haunted. So they move to another house, which is also haunted. Maybe it's not the house that's haunted! Did you ever think of that?? This is a great one if you are anti-gore, because it's not zombies-eating-your-flesh kind of horror. It's more who's-that-spooky-man-standing-outside-your-window kinda scary. I watched this with my sister while she was helping me pack my house to move from Portland back to Utah and at one point I remember turning to her and saying "This is a movie about a family in a house full of moving boxes and we are sitting IN A HOUSE FULL OF MOVING BOXES!" It's a blast.

6. The Others - Dang, I loved this movie. Moody and creepy and beautiful. It's about a woman who is looking for someone to take care of her kids who can't go out in the sun because of an allergy. Then spooky stuff happens. Then I wet my pants. This is definitely one I would watch with my kids when they are a little older.

7. Rosemary's Baby - If you haven't seen this classic, go watch it. A woman in a NYC apartment becomes pregnant and then starts to suspect her baby is the son of Satan. I know it sounds charming but it is creepy and unsettling and fantastic. Plus, Mia Farrow is a gift. And it has Ruth Gordon (You know, Maude from Harold and Maude! You love her!!)

So there you have it. I am sure I have left something out. Remind me in the comments what I missed, or tell me what your favorite scary movies are. I need a reason to stay up late (and then not be able to sleep after.)

an interview with: the phantom of the opera!

Back in the days when I was young and sprightly and had my own blog, I used to interview a Halloween character every October. You know, just to get to know them a little! Golly, I've met with Nosferatu, Jack the Ripper, a witch, and a bat. What a lot of weirdos! Anyway, I thought I would bring this feature to PTA where it will continue to puzzle and underwhelm our readers. Last night  I watched the 1925 silent classic The Phantom of the Opera with my kids and we were all horrified! My kids were horrified by the Phantom's face, and I was horrified by how fuzzy the whole thing was. But it was fun all the same, and I thought this might be the perfect time to sit down with the Phantom himself!

cc:   It's so great to meet you! Can I call you Erik?

Phantom:  What? Erik? No.

cc:   In the movie you reveal your real name to be Erik. Do you think that's a scary name? I kind of don't. Eric is not a scary name, but I guess switching the C to K helps a little.

Phantom:  Well, I was named after my mom's sister.

cc:   Your mom's sister was named Erik?

Phantom:  I'M FROM FRANCE!!!

cc:   That's right. So. How did you find all those cellars below the Paris Opera House?

Phantom:  Have you read the novel?

cc:   No. Should I? Seems long and boring.

Phantom:  Well, then, you won't want to hear the "long and boring" story about how I found the cellars.

cc:   My loss! So, how did your face get all messed up?

Phantom:  Have you read the novel?

cc:   No. Next question. Why do you like Christine when clearly she only likes you when you put her in a trance?

Phantom:  She's not in a trance! She's feeling mysterious and sexy when she hears my voice. Ladies do that.

cc:   I don't know many ladies who feel mysterious and sexy when I talk, and I do truck commercials.

Phantom:  When you talk, you need to add an echo effect. And you should wear a cape.

cc:   Hmmm....I will think about those things. What is your strange obsession with monkeys?

Phantom:  Do I have one?

cc:   Yes! There is a creepy monkey in the movie, and when I saw the fantastically boring Andrew Lloyd Webber Phantom Sequel Love Never Dies in London you had a monkey for your bartender!

Phantom:  Guilty! I love monkeys!

cc:   I love monkeys too. Well, I'm just about out of questions. What are two things you would like our readers to know about you?

Phantom:  Number one, how did I find those cellars under the opera house? Number two, how did my face get all messed up?

cc:   I think we've all learned something today. The more you read, the more you know!

Phantom:  And I can also teach a lot of people how to sever chandeliers without being detected. See ya in box five, suckas!

Halloween; Then and Now

My wife and I sit around all year and wait for October.  We used to over decorate the whole house and make delicious autumnal treats and throw a huge Halloween party every year, but now we have kids and don't have time for such things.  We literally, right this second, have a "Ghost Garland" from target that was purchased over a week ago that is only hanging by one side, the other cascading to the dinner table...not because it's fallen, but because we only ever hung one side and then lost interest.

We used to begin watching season two of Buffy the Vampire Slayer (no one watches season one) mid September and would wrap up season seven just before Halloween.  It was nice to come home and have your night all planned out for you; make dinner, watch Buffy; fold laundry, watch Buffy; hook up with spouse, pause Buffy. Easy.  (Sorry, but is that how you use semi colons?) But now we have kids and we no longer do ANY of the a fore mentioned activities. (again, sorry, is that how you use 'a fore'?)


We used to go to graveyards and take pictures of Crypts and Head Stones to print out and distress and hang as part of our October Decor.  (see below) 

 This last one is Washington Irving's Grave

One year, while living in New York City we found ourselves without a costume and had to whip something up because we wanted to go to the Halloween parade in Greenwich Village.  This is what we came up with:

 Dr. Dark and Madame Lumiere 

(we didn't have to name them, but we did...and we used French) 

That's right, take a closer look.

That's all Lindsay's hair.

 This was the last time we have dressed up for Halloween...because then...we got kids.

We no longer watch scary movies because the kids now creep into our room and it scares us.
We stopped buying holiday candy because we have kids and they would not eat anything else if they knew we had any.
We never say up past 10:30 (late, pref 9:45) because we have kids and no matter what time we go to bed they are coming for you at 6:45 am...with two nighttime wake ups...each.

It turns out that all the things you can't wait to do as a kid, you really do get to do...until you have kids! 
 

There is something to be said for getting to watch my kids have halloween, but they do it so poorly that it's hardly worth mentioning.  Milo is 4 months and rarely has much to contribute...except Exorcist style vomit which he offers up frequently.  And Daisy is two and a half and thinks the cheesiest things are scary (ie ghost garland from target). Lindsay and I have perfected our singular mix of Victorian Gothic blended with Savannah Grave Yard with a dash of 1692 Salem Courthouse for our Halloween aesthetic and the kids just don't get it. Which is fine by me, it's a lot of effort to set it all up just to then have some two-and-a-half-year-old wrap the ends of our grey muslin tablecloth around her neck like a cape and tear off tipping the lit candelabra into the piles of Spanish Moss and antique Law Books deliberately scattered on both the table and floor igniting my effortless balance between dilapidated library and spell casters squat.   

While it's true I love my children, more then anything, it will be nice when they grow up and we can get back to having fun on Halloween.