So this is a late one to hit the press. I had a little trouble with the audio and apparently I am limited to file sizes thanks to all the money I spent on VideoPress. Really glad I invested. Also, my sarcasm has been turned up to eleven since the new year started.
Anyway, one of my very best friends came to visit for the holidays. It means a lot to me when I get visitors who take time away from their schedules and make the trek down to North Carolina just to cause havoc with me. Especially all the way from Minnesota. So sorry about your liver, Ben.
In my plans for the visit I was able to talk Ben into shooting a review with me. It’s a weird hobby but I am glad Ben obliged. In the next three videos, we review champagne because…why not? It’s the one day during the year you are supposed to,unless you win the World Series or something. Come watch and sorry, by the time we sat down to shoot this I was pretty out there. It was New Years, for God sakes! what would you expect?
This is the first of three since one long video would probably be an overkill. I hope you enjoy and trust me, this first bottle should not be consumed unless you were in a life raft adrift without anything else. Even then, you might want to empty the champagne in the ocean and use the bottle to send a message.
I think I have written this three times and each one was longer than the last. I cropped photos, recounted each toy I could remember and gave extensive detail to what they were and where they came from. It was exhausting and ultimately it came out flat. There are probably thirty thousand blogs devoted to archiving toys from the 1980’s and brother, this ain’t one of them. I never had the knack for specifics when it came to cartoons or branded toys. I take my hat off to those who do and heaven knows, I read these blogs which devote that certain energy but this little space of mine in the internet is more personal.
It was a restless night back in ’87. There is so much anticipation a little kid has on the eve of Christmas. I don’t think it’s about gifts either but rather the culmination of months of excitement all coming to ahead. Everything seemed to be so still and peaceful back then. I have a vivid memory looking out my window on to my street, all the houses decorated and lit with not a single soul to be seen. It was so serene.
I drifted off to sleep trying not to think about Christmas morning. The longer I dwelled the later it got. Instead I would pretend I was an Imperial officer having to prepare navigational charts for a Star Destroyer. (I was a weird kid) That was an instant sleep remedy for me. Boring fantasies make me sleepy even today.
Like any kid at the ripe age of ten, once 5am came around, my internal clock kicked in and I was vertical. I moved slow and deliberate, creeping down the stairs, unsure what time it really was. I made my way to the den and flipped on the lights.
That’s the sight every adult has in their heads when thinking of the magic of Christmas to a child. That moment when you wrestle with yourself how Santa came while you slept and left you something. The smell of Scotch tape, wrapping paper and pine so early in the morning as you shiver with excitement and the fact it’s also 34 degrees outside. Then the long wait since getting the parents up probably wouldn’t be the best idea so you sit in the middle of the gifts, taking it all in and hold out until sunrise.
This was Christmas of 1987. The one that stands out above the rest. It isn’t because of a certain toy although it was the year I got Megatron and broke off one of his legs by going against my Dad’s suggestion of “not forcing it”. I think that year stands tall because Christmas seemed to permeate every aspect of my young life. The Christmas TV specials were amazing, the toys of that era were second to none and it felt as everyone was in the spirit. I have not felt that in years. And I am scared I probably never will.
I have memories. That is what Christmas is really all about, anyway. We come together and share merriment in an event that is logged in our hearts for years to come. Kind of magical, if you ask me.
So Merry Christmas to you. Don’t let this time go by without remembering what it is all about. Tell those around you how much they mean to you, keep the loved ones a little closer and hold out your hand to those who might not have someone. Think of the troops far off, kids who aren’t waking up to piles of gifts and the people who do not have a roof on cold nights.
Peace on Earth, good will toward men.
Good night and thank you for sticking with me this season. Hope everything amazing happens for you. Merry Christmas.
I don’t consider myself easily rattled. My life experiences have led me down odd paths like living in combat zones to jumping from planes to walking into a burning house looking in closets for trapped people. All of them had my heart pumping and sure, I have been spooked here and there. After my video series run of “Spooky NC” I definitely have seen my fair share of things which made my hair stand on end but that’s not saying I was ever terrified. Shocked and surprised would be better descriptions.
There was this time in 1998, however, that I have told few about but I can honestly say, it terrified me.
Back then I was a few years into the US Army and had enough rank to become comfortable in my own skin and developed true friendships with my fellow brothers in arms. Stationed up in the Dahlonega mountains of North Georgia at Camp Merrell Ranger Training base, I was able to live off post with a couple of buddies, Mike and Jeremy. This was a new-found freedom I had not really experienced before and though our mornings started at 3am, evenings were ours to drink beer and hit the town in search for wild women and song. Actually, Jeremy had a girlfriend and Mike was a goody-two-shoes officer in training so I was often alone in my quest.
One fateful Saturday I had some off time so I headed to visit my high school chums who all led normal college lives in Athens, Georgia which was about an hour and a half from my apartment. It was a welcome getaway for me. No yelling and explosions. Just screaming coeds and booze.
Unfortunately, a soldier’s weekends were always cut short and I had to be back on base the following Sunday morning so I decided the least painful thing to do was to leave that night and drive the curvy HWY 52 all the way back and catch at lease a few hours of sleep. It was a dark and spooky drive with little traffic. I am sure it has changed over the past decade but then it was the Ichabod trip home from the ball, traveling past farmlands and vacant old farm houses.
It also lacked important things like gas stations and well-lit areas in case of trouble. A two lane road with waist-high grass is no place to have a breakdown, especially when large semi trucks rocket past every so often. Occasionally a dead deer carcass reminded you of these very large trucks.
That night I made the poor decision to not fill up the car before I left the safety of the city and arrogantly believed a quarter tank of fuel was plenty to get me to the BP next to the complex. I learned a few things that night and one of them was the limitations of a Honda Civic LX.
I was within a mile from the intersection where 52 met the road the apartment was on and that is when the engine, oil and that triangle with an exclamation point in the middle light came on. The wheel lost power steering and I remember shouting, “NONONONONO!” and I drifted into the tall grass, clearing the car from the road. I couldn’t make it over the hill which had an orange flashing glow cresting the top. I tried restarting but if you have ever done a bone-headed thing like run out of gas then you know it is hopeless. I tuned on my hazards and waited for a few minutes both pissed at myself and concerned how I was going to make it home and make first formation which was only a few hours away. At that point I was unsure how close I really was to home. It could have been another fifteen miles for all I knew. I decided to walk.
I made my way to the top of the hill and realized how close I was to home because in the distance I saw the warning of road construction that was happening not too far from the apartment. I knew if I began to jog I could be home in less than ten minutes and bribe Jeremy to get out of bed and take me back to the car. The only concern I had at that point was passing the notorious abandoned gas station and shed which nature had taken over some thirty years ago.
I remember forming a plan to switch to the opposite side of the road when jogging past this creepy structure. Many locals believe weird things go on there and the local sheriff has arrested odd characters and drifters taking shelter there. I wasn’t frightened by this but I didn’t want to find out anything more to add to the legend.
About a hundred feet I began to cross over but then I noticed the weeds were tall and absolutely nowhere to run along side the road. That’s when I also noticed a semi’s lights coming from behind to I was forced back to the other side where the gas station was. This is where I remember but can not tell if pure adrenaline blocked certain stuff out or add stuff in.
As the truck passed at a considerable speed, someone jumped out from behind a brick berm and screamed as if he were in terrific pain, swung either a pipe of a crowbar and hit the pavement inches from my feet. The force of that swing was so strong it must have reverberated up his arm causing him to drop the metal item. I looked over in that split second to see a gigantic human reaching out and taking ahold of my collar. This is when I lose memory of how I slipped out of my shirt and miracled myself up the top of the hill. I turned around and to this day that sight makes the hair on my arms stand on end and feet go numb.
I never saw faces because the road construction orange warning lights illuminated in blinking rhythm behind the few figures. I saw the outline of a large man with disheveled hair holding a long object which must have been what he swung and missed me with. I saw a few others but for the life of me, I can’t accurately describe them because my next focus was on the child size person who was bald and skipping. It was a fucking Marylin Manson video in real life.
I was living a horrible dream and so terrified I began to laugh. I have no idea why this was my reaction but it was half insanity and half complete panic. I turned to run but only made it so far before I was winded and in hysterics. I had to pull myself together and survive this. I am in a specialized Army unit and this is how I am going to out? No way, José.
What seemed to be a life time, I finally made it to the BP station which was only a few hundred yards from the Apartments. And of course, it was closed with only the illuminating halogen lights over the pumps. A rational person probably would have used the pay phone and call the police but I believed if I could make it home, that was the safest place to be at the moment. And that’s when I heard it.
From the woods behind the gas station I heard cackling and screams. This was a real life horror movie and whether it was just bored red necks screwing with me or more malevolent people, it elicited a terror few have known and even fewer have lived to speak of. And that’s when I fucking began to laugh again! I couldn’t believe it!
Terribly drawn map
Some how they figured out where I was going and were trying to cut me off through the woods. From deep within these said woods I could hear hysterical and maniacal laughter and screams. It was inhuman and if they were looking to give a young man a heart attack, they were doing a brilliant job. I honestly never heard anything spoken. Just cackling and screaming.
Finally, I reached the apartments and hesitated to run up to the door in fear that they would know where I lived but at that point the sounds were closing in so I either face them outside or pray that Jeremy or Mike was home and lock the door behind me. I decided that I needed some backup and raced through the from door shouting something stupid.
“Jesus, Jeremy! Mike! They are coming!”
Jeremy busted out from his room in complete surprise. I didn’t even get through half the story before he darted into his room and pulled out a .45 and loaded it as I grabbed another shirt. His girlfriend in the bed began shouting at him to call the police and not leave the apartment but our fear had switched to macho and he and I raced out the door down to his car. It’s amazing what a Colt .45 can do for the spirit when up against unknown forces.
We made it to the front gate of the apartment and realized leaving Stephanie alone was a horror movie no-no and went back to drag her along. She was pretty pissed about us darting out and leaving her. I believed we were called assholes no less than 900 times.
We sped to the spot where I was originally attacked and demanded Steph to wait as we got out with the headlights pointing at the station and shed. I didn’t hear any more shouting or laughing but I knew they were there. Watching. Jeremy had the pistol out and like we trained many times before we entered cautiously into the building only to find uneven floors and broken glass. There was obviously no one there or had been there in sometime so we went to the shed behind the store and that’s when we pieced it all together.
I wish we had cellphones with cameras but in the late 90’s because I still can’t believe it and nothing I can tell you would have done it justice. There were quite possibly over fifty candles, all recently blown out. A table with a large pentagram painted on it with, of course, my damn shirt in the middle. Also, a ton of feathers and what we agreed to be a deer skull lying on a chair. It was so creepy and unnerving, I can’t tell if it was something I actually witnessed or a dream. It just doesn’t seem like it was a real event. But it was. I had my friends to witness.
We walked steadily back to the car where Steph was even more agitated. But before we reached the car Jeremy turned around to the woods behind the shed and shot off a number of rounds from the .45. The sound of the gunfire echoed and we didn’t hear a sound after. I stood there waiting for something to come running but there was absolutely nothing. Not even a cricket chirp.
We came home and Jeremy and I sat on the porch as the sky began to turn a purple hue. Stephanie had enough of the excitement and went back to sleep, shutting the door behind her in a forceful way. He declined to share with her what we found in the shed behind the station. Jeremy had a way of keeping those types of details from her as she was the type to cry over Snuggle Bear commercials.
He and I didn’t really speak, as we had a couple of beers and let the adrenalin drain from the system. I began to tell him about the skipping child-like figure and he cut me off not wanting to know. I think we figured out what scared us both and sometimes it’s better not to dwell on such matters.
When the sun was up I got into uniform and he drove me to put a can of gas in the car as we cautiously kept watch in the woods. I could get out of there fast enough and back to base.
A couple of months later we closed the apartment and I headed to Bosnia as Mike and Jeremy had other assignments. I kept in touch as best as I could but in those turmoil days after 9/11, we all went our own way. It’s an unspoken understanding I have learned over the years.
So that is a very true story. It happened and there isn’t much I can add. I have told this a few times but until now, I really haven’t reflected upon it in great detail. Now I need to go watch cartoons.
Last week I had to go up to New York City on a business trip. It’s part of the reason why I haven’t been so involved with the site for the Halloween countdown. Sometimes work just does that. But I did happen to pay a visit to a spot where Halloween rules the roost and it rescued me from having to pull an article from my fourth point of contact. (Airborne reference) This special place is a restaurant/bar near Greenwich Village called, Jekyll and Hyde and it is everything and more when it comes to a spooky good time. You’ll fall in love.
Call it fate, call it karma…I believe there was a reason I decided to walk to my client’s office instead of cabbing it. Had I taken a cab there is no way I would have walked past a street sign with the words “Spooky Hour” chalked on it. Or would I have seen the adorable ghosts and ghouls painted on the windows. It’s as if a higher power said, Will/Bill’s blog sucks and he needs a gift”. It was a gift and if you are in the area, this gift is also yours.
There are two Jekyll and Hydes in NYC; one in Greenwich Village and another in Times Square. This is not the one in Time Square though I am told that’s the better one. Sorry folks, I plumb ran out of time. I’m only reviewing this one and can not vouch for the other although the manager says it’s a lot more elaborate.
I know this is a really dark photo but what you are looking at is a fully functional animatronics dining room. Every decoration has a little more to it that what you think. From a werewolf’s head on the wall to painting with eyes that follow you around the room. It’s creepy but in a really cute way. I like to compare it to a satanic Chuck E Cheese. The even have arcade games. Well, an arcade game.
As you can see, I wasted no time making friends because I knew I would be here for a while so I may as well have the locals get used to me and my nagging nags. This is Anna, an awesome bartender, actress and all around cool person. We talked for hours and I learned more about the sketchy side of New York City than a dude from a little old town in North Carolina should. But I loved it.
She and the manager gave me the full tour of the place since I was the only person there for three hours so I have quite a bit to show you. I almost felt a little guilty about eating up their quiet time but I bought them lunch proving there is nothing that can’t be accomplished with the persuasion of tacos.
In a break from conversation this dude popped out from behind the curtains and said something eloquent but it caught me so off guard, I nearly threw my beer at him. I wish I could remember what he said but at that time I looked like a stupid tourist, caught up in something that happens three hundred times in a week.
See? This is a place that has surprises around every corner and in this case, a coffin door behind a curtain with a sophisticated corpse. I love it.
Like they say, you only rent the beers you drink and soon I was in search for a men’s room but that too was an adventure. At the far end of the dining room there is a long hallway lined with bookcases. I walked down to the end and back again, met with the staff who giggled at my obvious discomfort and total confusion. Anna said to try harder and read the clues like the sign at the end of the hall. Makes one wonder how much puke they clean up on a busy Saturday night from a drunk patron who had no time for clues or hidden doors.
Okay, so it’s not the best clue. I had already done that maneuver on my own. It is kinda cute though, don’t you think? Where else can you solve a puzzle while having a pee-pants incident at age 35?
Oh we have much success! I just prayed that I hadn’t found the woman’s restroom instead. I lead a life of 50/50’s and I am 100% wrong all he time. Lucky for me, this was a fluke.
After that little adventure, I wandered back to my bar stool, well aware of the eyes following me from painted pictures and eyeballed skeletons. When I passed the manager he asked if I wanted to see one of the animatronics shows while I was in the dining room. I said no. NO WAY I WOULD MISS IT!
I took this crappy video on my iPhone so you’ll have to bear with it. I never anticipated having enough time to get a real video on this trip.
Wow, that video is pretty terrible and super huge on this WordPress blog but you get the point. It’s a room of mechanical wonders and not too far off from the Rock-A-Fire Explosion.
I sat back down, completely satisfied with my experience so far only to find out they have an upstairs.
They have an upstairs? And it’s just like this only darker and more macabre? I don’t mean to sound easy to please but if you have singing skeletons, hot bartenders, beer and bathrooms behind bookshelves, I am yours. To add to that is like telling me I won a monkey who plays the ukulele and makes perfect lasagna. It’s beyond a bonus.
There are two stairways to the second floor; one leads to Bwana Bob’s Safari Bar and the other to Laboratory Lounge. I had to rub my eyes because now we are talking about three distinctly different bars all strange and unusual, just like me. I can’t decide which is better so I will say their personalities crossed the finish line together.
It’s a weird thing to be in an empty bar full of skeletons and angry tiki masks with the sun shining bright while monkey sounds and native chanting bellow from the speakers. It’s surreal for a place that had been established in the early thirties, the creep factor was high. I absolutely can’t show you everything without turning this into more of a picture blog than it already is so I will share the ones I thought painted with the broadest brush.
It was really cool of the manager to join me after I wandered around for thirty minutes. He said that this part of the restaurant isn’t open to the public but they are working to restart it. He went to the control room (which I have plenty of photos but don’t feel comfortable sharing) to start up the animatronics show. Before I knew it skulls appeared out of the walls, mouthing to the headhunter songs as the bridge rippled up and down. They really include the patron into the show and I find that so neat because getting drunk should always be an experience.
If you are going to drink a mai tai, you should drink one sitting next to a skeleton in an aviator’s cap, pretending you are stranded on an island full of tribes who will shrink your head and probably eat you. Another positive note, no malaria carrying mosquitos!
After I took in all of Bwana Bob’s Safari Bar, I walked to the next room that was not nearly as fun but certainly as cool, the Laboratory Lounge. I couldn’t get over what a change in atmosphere it was because there was no separation between the two rooms! Amazing what a skylight can do.
It’s no secret that life-size monster statues are my thing. Especially the ones that have creepy signs with stories from horror literature. This is a two-headed abomination that a mad scientist created only to have it turn and kill him. Pretty dark but this is a place for it to hangout. Don’t try to buy it a drink because your bill will always be double. (I’ll be here all week folks!)
Here’s another couple that let’s you know you’re not at a Chili’s. We see a patient and a doctor before what looks like an attempted surgery sans the drugs. It might be just me but that doctor looks like he got his MD online. And looking closer, it appears he’s being coached by his patient. That’s kind of high for a vasectomy. I’m sure they’ll get it right after a few attempts.
I would show more photos but the Lab was getting renovated to be open for the Halloween season so besides a few more skeletons and a bat..thing, there really isn’t much to show for now. I am sure it’s pretty insane since my visit.
I made my way back down the other stairway to grab another beer and gush over what I’ve seen. I must have sounded like a person from a country full of famine who discovered a Whole Foods. They had a good laugh at my “and then I saw…and after that…did you see…” type gibberish.
Pretty soon my mouth began to get dry. You know you’re pretty high when your mouth is dry. I had to say my long goodbyes and throw cash at Anna. Parting is always such sweet sorrow but I still had a meeting with a lady on a rooftop bar back at the hotel and slurring is not something I mask well when talking about financial and techno mumbo-jumbo. Plus, I heard a rumor that the people who own the Jekyll and Hyde’s also own this little hotspot around the corner:
That’s for next time.
I also needed real pizza.
Thanks for reading and if you have the time, means and are close to New York City, pay them a visit. It’s a neat place to have a beer. Or ten.
It’s a glorious Saturday. The weather is cooler than usual, the coffee tastes better than usual and the internet is faster than usual. All-in-all, it’s an unusual day for the better. So I am going to enjoy it and head to the pool, then East to my buddy’s place so I can get mad love from his awesome 3-year-old and watch horrible VHS from the 1980’s until the wee hours of the morning.
But I am not going to abandon my freakish duty and not post. Oh no, I will share some older Halloween-ish posts from seasons gone by. Enjoy and I will be around the Twitter-sphere if you want to drop me a line. It’s an all day party here!
So that should keep you busy and remember, follow me on Twitter for stupid photos and possibly drunken haikus. Ok, probable drunken haikus. I’m to the left of this post.
Casserole of Disaster 