Link of the Day [1.22.10]

broderic on January 22, 2010

Sleep talkin’ man.

It could describe any number of friends and family, but this link goes to the world famous one.

I know I caught CapSwell sleep talking some times. Funny stuff.

Some say that I talk in my sleep. Until someone documents it, I will deny it. Sometimes, I want to document my sleep talkin’ too, but I’m scared to find EVP on the recording. Who knows who else is in my room as I sleep?

http://sleeptalkinman.blogspot.com/

Mt. Vernon Ghost Walk

broderic on November 15, 2009

Somethings are better written in the light of day. It is better writing about creepy, spooky, frightening things in bright sunshine than in the dark of night. The spooks and frights are less convincing when the shadows in the corner are gone.

Halloween was a few weeks ago, but we wanted to stretch out spook season for a few more days, so we went on the Mt. Vernon Ghost Walk Tour. It’s an offshoot of the Fells Point Ghost Walk, and it leads you around the haunted places of Mt. Vernon, Baltimore. It also gives you a nice history lesson of Baltimore for what are ghosts stories, but tales about a place — it’s history. But that isn’t so memorable, so let’s make it scary and you’ll remember the story.

That’s what’s was great about the ghost walk, the stories. Ghost stories are better in the first person whether that be P.O.V. or by spoken word. P.O.V. being me telling you my ghost experience. Spoken word is the ghost story being told out loud. And the story teller of our ghost walk was first rate. They really do a good job of telling the story.

Now, Baltimore is a great town for ghosts. It’s because of our second rate status. We are a small city trying to live big. We are south but never got a chance to secede. We are in between worlds just like ghosts. We have a chance to go between worlds.

There were great tales on the walk. It was a fun night. I liked it. I was spooked at times. I was surprised at times. I like ghost stories. You’ll have fun if you go.

Up the Longnecker Road

broderic on October 31, 2009

One thing about cycling alone that makes it difficult is that on those lonely back country roads, it gets spooky. You look over your shoulder and can imagine something or someone following you, and your cadence picks up moving you quickly away from whatever it was that had you spooked.

Now, at times I get spooked, but it is always just a figment of my imagination. I’m not one to worry to much about the spooks. They come and go, and I continue on pedaling to my goal. Yet, I can’t help but think about a situation I ran into this past summer. On this spooky of evenings, let me tell you my tale. It may give you chills.

Butler Road is a favorite of the biking community. It can connect you to many other routes throughout Baltimore County, and it’s relatively near civilization. It’s in the beautiful valleys northwest of the city.

I make my way there all the time this summer. It’s become part of my favorite biking routes. I’ve always wanted to climb the hill off of Longnecker Road in that vale. At the top is a radio tower, you can see it whenever you ride there, and it usually beckons. I’ve never been up that way, but finally, on one of my last rides, I decide to check it out.

It was on over cast summer day cool which is great for a bike ride. I go out and pass through Reisterstown Road, out to Timber Grove, which spits me out onto Dover. I bomb down the hill at 40 mph, then hang the left out onto Dover Road proper. I take the left onto Longnecker. A cloud occults the sun and it looks a little bit like rain. The wind kicks up. A head wind sucks. I put my head down and grind into the wind hoping that when I get to the base of the hill that it will shelter.

I reach the base of the hill. It’s over a creek, around a bend, and through a stone quiet vale. The road hangs a right, then sharp left into the woods before the climb starts. I’m grinding up in a low gear. Half way up I pass an old lady walking her dog. Weird. Then I make it out of the woods, but the hill kicks up. It’s next to a nice field, but the road gets steeper. I’m out of gears, so I focus on trying to get up the hill.

At the top you can see a farm. There’s a false flat so that you don’t see the crossroads. You climb up the steepest section, make it to the false flat which rises to the crossroads.

Up ahead I see another cyclist resting. He’s tuckered from the climb too.

I pull up next to him. Huffing and puffing. Sit down and swig some water from my water bottle.

“Tough.”

“I usually like this hill, it’s less steep than the backside. But I wish the club ride wouldn’t have left me behind.”

“Club ride? Where to?”

“Carroll County and back. 40 miles. I’m late and must catch up.”

Even though, I’m overheated, I feel a chill.

“I’m always trying to catch up to the group.”

“I know how you feel. I’m a slowpoke myself.” This is when I take a good look at my rest stop companion. He’s an older gentleman riding an older bike: friction shifters and really only 10 speeds. Odd. The chills.

I look back down the hill, and see another cyclist coming up. His appearance startles me. I turn to the gentleman, but he’s just muttering, “I must catch up.”

The other cyclist reaches us. My rest stop companion, asks for directions out to Butler. The cyclist doesn’t know, but continues on with his ride. He gives us a queer look as he pedals away. “Follow me, this is the usual club ride.” My companion barely acknowledges.

“Well, I’m going right. Left should get you back to the group ride.”

“Maybe I’ll follow you.”

And with that the chills come again. To be followed by this gentleman just somehow gives me the spooks something awful. I get on and pedal away, quickly.

Over the backside, the road is in terrible conditions. There’s potholes and patches, its steep, and bumpy. I’m trying to go as fast as possible without crashing. I glance back on occasion to see if he’s following. Nope. Thank, god.

I don’t know, but that encounter always creeps me out. I don’t know what happened to that guy, but it was always strange how he didn’t know where to go and to be always trying to keep up. Who was that man? And why did he give me the chills?

Quote of the Day [2.05.09]

broderic on February 5, 2009

“Here comes a candle to light you to Bed
Here comes a chopper to chop off your Head”

“Oranges and Lemons,” Old English Nursery Rhyme

Link of the Day [1.29.09]

broderic on January 29, 2009

As you know, I'm a big fan of ghost stories. Stories set in decrepit
mansions, dark castles, or creaky houses always manage to raise the
goosebumps on my arms. It's a satisfying feeling especially alone in
your darkened house snuggled up in a blanket underneath the glare of
your reading lamp. Yet, for me the spookiness of ghost stories was never translated well in
movies. I like watching them but the fear or excitement isn't the same.
Mainly, I can't look at them, but I can't look away unlike in reading
where the haunting tale focuses me to the words unwilling to look
around.Today's link take you to a marathon of blog posts. Click through and
read Arbogast on Film's January posts for some reviews and of ghostly
movies. Makes me want to watch some to get spooked out. Then, it makes
me want to read some in a cold, dark corner of my house. What's that
coming up the stairs?http://arbogastonfilm.blogspot.com/2008/12/coming-up-in-new-year.html

Boldly going where every man goes in time

broderic on January 15, 2009

http://www.khaaan.com/ That's as classic of an internet meme link that I can post, but sitting
behind IniTech's corporate firewall I'm not sure what you'll be seeing.
This link should've been the link of the day, if I wasn't posting things
in advance, but I was, and now I am writing a post acknowledging the
death of Ricardo Montalban. Rest in peace, Khan Noonien Singh, Kirk
wishes you well."To the last, I will grapple with thee… from Hell's heart, I stab at
thee! For hate's sake, I spit my last breath at thee!"