Ouija Boards, Roller Blinds and the Mysterious P

As a kid, I was obsessed with supernatural stories. I loved all sorts of tales of ghoulies and ghosties and long-leggity beasties...

Also Snoopy.

But mostly, the kind of stuff that would leave me afraid to put my foot over the edge of the bed at night. (Y'know, because every kid is innately aware that Evil has a serious foot fetish.)

My best friend Josette felt much the same way as I did about the things that go bump in the night. Together, we exhausted the mystery, horror and occult sections of our elementary school library...

Plus, Josette also owned a Parker Brothers Ouija board.

Now, I'm a pretty practical gal these days. I mean, I still love tales of the strange and unusual. But I also know the Salem Witch Trials were a result of mass hysteria and a need for attention...

That psychic Miss Clio and her chums won't enlighten me to anything but the missing money in my bank account...

And that Ouija boards work on the scientific principal of idia... ideo... er...

Subconsciously pushing the triangle thingie with your own hands.

So looking back, I'm amused at how very serious we were about this.

I believe it all started with the idea that we would contact Josette's Grandfather's ghost Beyond The Grave. Because that sounded good and dramatic, and Josette was really into watching "Dark Shadows" at the time. Everything's dramatic when you're 12 and watching "Dark Shadows."

Heck, grilled cheese can take on mysterious, ominous tones with enough imagination...

"Look!-- at the CHEESE! Do you see it? It's... MELTING! I've never seen cheese behave that way before. What does it mean?"

"It must be... HAUNTED!"

(insert scary organ music here)

So initially we asked the Ouija questions in the general "Josette's Grandpa, can you hear us? Is that you?" sort of vein, because we'd seen that done on various thriller Movies of the Week and it was usually really effective within the first few moments of the scene.

But surprisingly, the Ouija wasn't forthcoming with any real answers.

Mostly it seemed to wander around the board in a confused, unspecific way, like an elderly person in a shopping mall parking lot who forgets where the car is parked.

Then we decided that since it probably wasn't Grandpa-- or if it was, he didn't know where his car was, so he was unlikely to be of much help from the Spirit World on other topics-- we'd better just ask general questions of things we wanted to know.

And to demonstrate to ourselves that we weren't running the Ouija board ourselves subconsciously, we wanted to choose questions we couldn't possibly know the answers to.

So we conferred a bit and came up with the question that had been plaguing us both for a few years now.

Was it about the potential for world peace? Or who our True Loves would be? Maybe about the possibility of life on other planets? Or whether we'd live long, healthy lives?

Are you ready for it? To hear The Question that would be a true test of the Ouija board's vast supernatural powers?

Because this gives a lot of deep insight into the mind of a 12-year-old in the early 80s, I think...

Okay, here goes. The question that we most wanted to know, and felt the spirits on the Other Side could tell us was....

"What does the P. stand for in Sheriff Rosco P. Coltrane's name on The Dukes of Hazzard?"

Yep, that's right. We'd drag a spirit presence all the way from some other realm to ask them questions about a lisping, bumbling television cop's middle name.

Ah-- but this time, the triangular planchette quivered under our fingers! It began to move! Josette and I exchanged wide-eyed glances as it rushed to the first letter.

"P..."

"Oh, my gosh, it's going to tell us!" Josette breathed.

Then the next letter.... "A!"

We were going to get our answer, finally, after all these years! The tension was almost unbearable. What was it? Patrick? Payton? Paul?

And another letter... And another letter! And another!

And there, the planchette settled into the middle of the board, seemingly exhausted. It's work now done.

Hearts pounding in our chests, we exhaled with excitement and we put the letters together in what, to this day, never ceases to send me into fits of giggles when I think about it.

Because according to the Ouija board, the answer to "What does the P. stand for in Sheriff Rosco P. Coltrane's name on The Dukes of Hazzard?" was...

"Panda."

Rosco... Panda... Coltrane?!

It was a little disillusioning.

Well, at the time, once we stopped laughing, we decided we'd better to turn back to more serious matters. You know, to call forth the spirit of Jon-Erik Hexum or someone else we thought was cute who'd passed on.

And so renewed were we in our activities-- trying to put the unfortunate "Panda Incident" out of our minds, I believe-- that we'd neglected to notice a summer thunderstorm rolling in, dark clouds pressing down on the house from above.

So when we asked the Ouija board to give us a final sign regarding some critical point-- which, I'm afraid, is now lost to the memories of both Josette and me-- well, thunder clapped loudly overhead in a entirely coincidental but perfectly-synchronized moment.

Which rattled the blind of Josette's room enough to cause it to flip and roll skyward.

That was enough. We shrieked and leapt away from the Ouija board like it was a some giant hairy spider, never to dabble in the Parker Brothers' occult again.

But even in spite of the well-executed meteorological activity, as I returned home sleepy and watching the rain steam down the windshield of my mother's Family Wagon, I realized: the Ouija board had taken a real hit on its authority for me that day.

Panda... Honestly!...

Sometimes the supernatural wasn't quite so super.

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Vote for this post at Humor-blogs. Immortalize the spirit of James Best, the actor who played Rosco P. Coltrane, forever!

Rate This: Rating the Rating of Ratings


Is it just my imagination, or does it seem like simply everything online is rateable these days?

I mean, just look at all of the exciting social media opportunities we have now! And being able to rate the media on these different venues theoretically allows the cream to rise to the top...

The clotty grease to float over the beef broth...

No, wait...

The wheat to be separated from those inedible stringy bits that taste bad and clog your intestines and only goats can properly digest and... er...

Well, you know what I mean.

But now it seems that not only do individual posts or videos get rated in these media venues, but the comments about the individual posts or videos are getting rated, too.

So folks are commenting on the comments of the commentary...

And then Abbott says to Costello something about a first baseman named Who.

Anyway, I got to thinking about this when I visited an online friend's blog the other day. I noticed her happy little virtual art scrapbook had a "Rate this Picture" section automatically included on it.

And I started wondering-- do her cheerful hobby drawings really need to be assessed and given the "yea" or "nay" by some schmoe like me? Or by Joe Randomvisitor who just happened to pop by because he got lost on the way to YouTube?

Can't something just be good for the sake of trying it? For practicing, for working to be more than you currently are, for following up on the urge to create, and for sharing?

Can you really put a rating on trying and learning?

These are the sort of things I think about in between eating Cheez-Its and watching episodes of "My Name is Earl."

Another aspect of this Weigh-in On Everything Phenomenon happened on a celebrity news program I caught the tail-end of last week. They were talking about Shia LeBoeuf's recent car accident, and to support their idea that fans didn't think getting a DUI would affect Shia's career they had...

Larry from Whoville emailing in through the web site saying:

"I still think Shia is rockin'. He was cool in Transformers, and since he worked so closely with giant talking robots that change into cars and trucks, I think he's totally a good enough driver to man a regular non-talking non-robot vehicle after a couple of brewskis."

Okay, well, maybe Larry from Whoville didn't quite say that. My ears shut down somewhere after the word "rockin'."

But still. The newscaster went on to encourage more emails, allowing other folks from Whoville... and Upper Tarnation.... and Redbud and the like... to express their thoughts on the personal life of an individual they had never met before in a situation they hadn't witnessed.

And then it occurred to me-- if this is the way the trends are going these days, who am I to buck the Will of the People by judging all the judgment? I mean, I'm a helper, not a fighter.

So I came up with a few areas that are currently rating-free as far as I know, but which might really appeal to this brave new world of Complete Audience Interaction:

  • Rate This Kindergartener's Artwork. Let's get 'em used to critique while they're still in their Underoos. The kindergarten artwork that receives more "gold stars" gets to be seen on the school bulletin board. Artwork with fewer stars gets the bin and those kindergarten artists are sent to the corner in disgrace, much like being Voted Off the Island. It's a tough world out there, so the sooner these five-year-old cuties learn that other people's opinions off the top of the head will affect their progress in life, well, the better.
  • Vote Down Your Most Hated Louvre Paintings. Ever go into major museums and think, "Why is this art?" Well, here's your chance to make your museum visit truly interactive. By voting down your most hated Louvre paintings, the opinions of the first 1,000 people who participate will dictate which paintings get shown to the world and which won't. How many of you are sick of seeing that Mona Lisa chick and her simpering smile? If you're one of the first 1,000, vote it down and the world will never have to see this painting ever again. Yes, that's right-- it'll be wiped from history. What-- you don't know anything about art? That doesn't matter. Today, everyone's opinion about everything is equally important. Yours. Mine. Everyone's. Let's make our voices heard.
  • Rate the Vacation Memories of Complete Strangers. Vacation slides. The only people they really matter to are the folks who were there. Yep, those people can laugh hysterically at a shot of their dad standing in front of a diner sign, and you have to sit through it in bemused silence. Well, now, you could put an end to the tedium of boring vacation shots you didn't experience yourself by voting them up or down according to your personal interest. Images with the most down votes will be purged from those families' albums, and you'll never have to be bothered by them again.

By implementing these and other innovative Interactive Audience Ratings Programs, we'll soon be able to share all our important insights on the comments of the comments of the ratings of the rated. And best of all, we can enjoy all this heady authority anonymously, on any topic, and while never actually having to produce a single creative thing ourselves.

Power to the people!

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