occult

Get thee behind me, Fluffy!

My Fellow Inebriates,

This morning my mum drove my dad to the airport for his first-ever business trip with the corporate dark side.

Like many unbalanced people, she did a thorough scan of the house, and then another identical one, looking for unlocked doors, appliances left on, liquor cabinet secured, etc. Through the window I watched them drive away. Then I went back to sleep. All the bears were asleep—Glen, Red Bear, Fluffy…

Mum dropped Dad off at the airport and Miss P off at Grade One. She and Miss V shared a ginger cookie at Starbucks and did the grocery shopping. Finally they came home.

And one of the stove burners was on.

It wasn’t a burner anyone had used that morning. They’d used other ones, but not that one. And there it was, on “Lo.”

Obsessive compulsives like my mother check for these things before they leave the house. They make sure they are last to leave, just in case anyone else has an idea about turning on all the lights or taps for no good reason. When you have OCD you look out for stove burners—even ones you haven’t been using.

My dad was incommunicado on a five-hour flight to Toronto. The kids…they would never touch the stove; my mum has frightened the living daylights out of them regarding fire. As for my mum…she didn’t use the burner, but she doesn’t specifically recall checking it, although she recalls checking three times that the front door was locked.

It has a little red light! She would have seen that! My mother is a freak about stuff like this. She couldn’t have left the house without seeing that!

Now, I was sleeping off some Malibu dregs, and although I did briefly get up to say good-bye to my dad and remind him to check in with Ravenskye for me on Facebook, I conked out straightaway after. So I don’t know about that burner…

But I have an idea.

I think it was Fluffy.

If you’ve been following, you know Fluffy is the Fleecy-marinated semi-comatose bear who arrived shortly after my Granny died. He was her bear, and some strange shit’s been happening since his arrival. Cold spots. Noises. Fearful kids.

I’d like to say this all seemed benign, but it was creeping me out. And now! Finding stove burners on is a seriously sinister development. Somebody is trying to get our attention—as though being offensively redolent of fabric softener wasn’t sufficient. Fluffy, I don’t know what you want, dude, but you are seriously giving me the willies.

So here’s what I proposed to my mum: buy some chardonnay. Granny and I had a history of occasionally drinking chardonnay together, particularly some nice unoaked ones and a Semillon blend once. We had some good chats over her chardonnay, and she didn’t mind me dipping into her glass.

My mum has company coming this week anyway, so she did visit the booze shop. But she didn’t buy chardonnay; she bought sauvignon blanc.

I told her she is messing with things we cannot even comprehend. She is thumbing her nose at powerful spirits by buying the wrong booze.

She said she prefers sauvignon blanc and that the wine consultant recommended it.

Good enough for me, but will it keep Fluffy out of mischief?

If I don’t post for a few days, it’s because he’s set fire to the house.

LINDEMAN’S BIN 50 SHIRAZ (2010)—Good enough for me, but is it good enough for Fluffy and the devil?

My Fellow Inebriates,

Should I be comforted or worried that my parents have opened up a joint bank account? They’ve gone nine years without sharing finances, but now that my dad’s closed up his business and taken a corporate job, they’re getting busy at the bank.

Does a shared bank account imply that a shift in control over household (and more importantly, liquor) spending is in the offing? More pointedly, is some sort of financial coup taking place, and does my mum have despotic plans?

I’m worried because, of the two of them, my mum is the frugal one. And if she gets even one rein over the banking, I’m concerned that she will draw up a budget of that might be more sensible than I’d prefer. She would totally do that.

I asked her if she is planning a takeover, and what sort of empire she envisions. She did not quite laugh at that. It seems we’ve been doing what much of North America has been doing over the last decade—racking up debt, living off credit, and biting our nails worrying.

Holy crap, I had no idea! I thought my parents were just jerks about keeping my inventory supplied. I thought they just didn’t care about my happiness. I had no idea they were actually tight on funds and considered liquor a secondary expenditure—a luxury even. And even now that my dad’s joined the corporate dark side, even with more regular money on the horizon, apparently we are in “emergency mode” for the foreseeable future. That’s what my mum said, at least, and she didn’t say it with a flashlight under her chin to freak me out. She really meant it!

This doesn’t really sit well. I’ve never heard my dad talk about emergency modes or budgeting or bookkeeping or any of that stuff. My dad is awesome.

But here’s my mum, two minutes after getting her mitts on a joint bank account, talking about ratcheting back the booze spending so we can—what? Save up for the end of the Mayan calendar? OMG! My mum is definitely not my favorite parent.

If you’ve been following, you know our liquor cabinet is crying out for Southern Comfort, Kraken Black, PAMA, Jagermeister, Kahlua, Kilo Kai, Bombay Sapphire, Grand Marnier and Bacardi 151. It’s imperative that we acquire these items, which means we need creative accounting, not the practical accounting my mum is proposing. If we cut back on luxuries such as rain boots, vitamins, Q-tips, dentistry, and similar useless items, we can have a kick-ass bar within a few months.

The other thing we need ASAP is a Ouija board. I need to find out if the new bear, Fluffy, is indeed possessed by the spirit of my deceased Granny.

Have you ever used a Ouija board?

It kind of freaks me out. But Rachel, who gave me the idea, says everybody used to own a Ouija board—at least until The Exorcist came out. In fact, you can get a Hasbro glow-in-the-dark one at Toys R Us for $11.99.

Okay, so let’s say I con my dad into buying a Ouija board. He might, because he’s unafraid of paranormal activity and because he likes shopping. But then again, he might decide to use the $12 to buy another bottle of LINDEMAN’S BIN 50 SHIRAZ (2010). Which I would applaud.

But if I could get him to buy both, what things could we ask the Ouija board? And what would it say?

Are there any spirits around?

YES

Is Granny present?

YES

Is Granny in Fluffy?

YES

Are we going to win the lottery?

NO

Will Dolly stay with Fluffy?

MAYBE

Would Toshiko Shek ever make a handbag out of Fluffy’s head?

NO

Should we drink the LINDEMAN’S BIN 50 SHIRAZ now?

YES

Is it a good wine for the price point?

YES

Are there plums and ripe blackberries on the nose?

YES

Is it medium-bodied with mellow tannins and subtle oak?

YES

Does it have lingering spices and a moderately long finish?

YES

Is one bottle enough?

NO

Is it a good idea for my parents to share a bank account?

MAYBE

Will they ever put me in the washing machine?

YES

Aaargghhh!

Maybe it’s not such a good idea to mess with the occult. Here’s what some consumers have to say about toy stores selling Ouija boards:

“yuck we dont want our kids having these and ruining there mental health”

First of all, even the devil won’t know what the hell you’re talking about if you don’t make yourself understandable. Feel free to use punctuation marks and differentiate between “there” and “their.”

“Only evil comes from Ouija boards. Only those ignorant of the spiritual world would expose themselves to such devices. Children are innocent and deserve our protection. This is not a toy for children! The CEOs of all retail stores need to ban such devices from their stores.”

I like the relationship between ignorance and innocence here. Only ignorance would allow you to dabble in the occult. But it’s important to preserve children’s innocence, by keeping them ignorant of Ouija boards.

“These are not toys and shouldn’t be treated as so!! Even being Pagan I wont allow a Ouija board in my house they are trouble!!”

Wow, I thought pagans were better at grammar.

“It is just card board and so are tarot cards. These things don’t not predict the future or talk to the dead. The devil just uses these things as tools.”

So are they okay then, or are they bad? The “tools” aren’t real, but the devil, who is apparently real, uses them. So confusing.

Dan Lacey: Michele Bachman eating a corndog. Tool of the devil? Michele certainly; the corndog perhaps.

“this is not appropriate! do we neeed another excorsist around? i mean really, do kids really want to talk to satan? this is a matter best left alone and i know what i’m talkin about. i had a ouija board and things terrorized my family for years. stop evil before it comes.”

Our kids totally want to talk to Satan. Especially the older one, who’s the more outgoing of the two.

“The problem is, is that it’s not a game, but the Devil’s doorway….They don’t seem to get that!”

Isn’t the devil banished to hell? He sure gets a lot of hall passes, doesn’t he?

“This game should be banned at once. These children are innocent and do not understand the lunacy of the devil and the consequences of using this board. I pray to God that This is taken care of ASAP!”

I knew the devil was bad-ass and all, but I didn’t know he was a lunatic. I just thought he used lunatics, such as Michele Bachmann, as his mouthpieces.

And finally, something intelligent. Here’s what Rachel, who used to sell Ouija boards, says about about them:

“I own one of the largest collections in the world; and the only creepy thing that has ever happened to me is my teenager.”