I got home a little later than usual last night (gig ended at 11, we got here at 1:45) because while I was sitting in traffic on the way to a gig in Kemah, the points in George's distributor heated up and melted, and the engine died. I had to push George a block and a half, fully loaded with my musical equipment to a cul-de-sac (3 different folks pulled over and offered to help...good people out at NASA), call Sylvester, who luckily was in the same vicinity and he came and got me and we went on and played the gig. Afterwards, we tried starting George but no dice. Sylvester has AAA and he has a free tow on his deal so he called a wrecker and George is now safely back in the driveway...I'm going to get a new ignition chip like cousin Bert told me to do and this won't happen again...also a Bosch Blue Coil. Anyway, a couple of things happened having to do with Mr. Goodvibes. When I got in I went upstairs to change out of the soaking-wet clothes I had on (right now most of our gigs are outside, where it's in the high 90s with high humidity) that had been that way since I pushed George the length of a football field earlier in the heat of the day. I turned on the hall light. When I came back out of the bedroom, the light was off. I turned it back on and went downstairs. I fixed my sandwich and came in here to the shrine to bad taste and as I was eating the sandwich, the light in the hall got turned off. I got up and walked over to the stairs and looked and listened. Nothing. I turned it back on, dammit. I came back over here and sat down and it got turned off again. I was telling Sylvester about the ghost when we were driving home in his car with the wrecker following us, and he said "You said a while back that your house in Galveston had a ghost in it, didn't you..." I said yes, it did. Did I tell you about that? He said "It's the same ghost. He went with you. Did you bring something to your house that came from the old house in Galveston?" I immediately remembered the old turn-of-the-century trunk I've kept that we got out of the attic at our old Victorian house in the historical district in Galveston. I said yeah, the old trunk. It was full of spooky stuff. Black dresses, lace-up shoes with pointy toes and high heels, a metal box that was full of old cigar wrappers and it had a glass eye in it...and books from the 1800s about seances and conjuring spirits...Syl said "That's your boy. You brought him with you." I was struck by not only the immediate response that Sylvester had, but the simplicity of his reasoning. Mr. Goodvibes is mine. He's been with me all my life. I brought him to where he is now. WC1
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