“Bottled Ghosts Sold in New Zealand”
This actual news headline caught my eye last year. It seems a couple of ghosts moved in with a woman in New Zealand. They were not good houseguests. The homeowner had to do her own extermination – spectral vermin being outside Orkin’s area of expertise. She claimed to have exorcised the phantasmic squatters by trapping them in 2 little bottles. The ghosts’ essence, which resembles blue Powerade, was then sold on the internet. The buyer was someone in need of bottled ghosts.
This is an amazing breakthrough!
We all have ghosts. They haunt our lives: clinking, clanking reminders of our past choices. Think of the time and money spent at the therapist’s office trying to wrestle these wraiths into submission. Now we learn that a metaphoric exorcism is not the only option. Ghosts can actually be trapped, capped and discarded – sometimes for a profit.
While the news story was frustratingly free of details on the mechanics involved, one thing is clear – a bottle is required. And not just any bottle. I’m sure it must the right one for each particular ghost.
I’m determined to start my own exorcism as soon as possible. Here’s a partial list of my ghosts and the bottles I’m assembling:
Junior high school: It was a life-or-death scramble for the top of the social ladder. The betrayals still haunt me. The whole experience should be stuck in a bottle of Elmer’s Glue.
One night in college: The details are a little hazy, but I’m pretty sure I made a very bad decision. A bottle of Jack Daniels might drown this ghost.
Old loves: These fall into 2 categories.
1. The one that got away. In retrospect, he had every fine quality I could ever ask for, but was too blind to see at the time. This ghost should be stoppered in a rose-colored bottle.
2. The one I should have let get away, but didn’t. My inner voice said the relationship was going to be crap, but I blocked it out. Flush all that wasted time with a bottle of Drano.
Bad jobs: Seduced by the lure of (pick one):
3. personal fulfillment,
I took the job with the (pick one):
1. lunatic boss
2. lousy pay
3. built-in guarantee of failure,
thereby derailing my career. Cover with a bottle of White-out.
Adipose: I’ve wrestled this specter for most of my life. Occasionally laid to rest, it always comes back. Smother it in a bottle of Mrs. Butterworth’s Syrup.
Lost youth: I believe in surrendering gracefully the things of youth. In theory. In reality I’m dragged, kicking and screaming, away from every year. Color my memories with a bottle of Nice ‘N Easy.
The road not taken: When standing at the crossroads in that yellow wood, I never doubted I could come back to try the other path. But that rarely happens. Gently submerge in a bottle of Angostura bitters.
Now that the supplies are lined up, I’m sure I’ll have all my ghosts vanquished in no time. Look for them on Ebay soon in the newly created “Casper” category. All offered with no reserves.
*In the interest of full disclosure, I must reveal that this has been posted before. But that was in the first months (October) of my blog and on another site. Then I saw the light and came over to WordPress. It had exactly one view – thanks sis!