Feb 19, 2016 3 min read

I’ve been watching this show on the SyFy channel. It’s a crime story set in outer space. It’s called “The Expanse.” It sounds like it’s about my waistline after Christmas, but the only belt in the story is an asteroid belt (place rimshot here). It’s a murder mystery, and it could have been set anywhere. I think I’d like it even if it was set in a laundromat. Here’s my problem. I can’t watch the commercials. Every station break they have, SyFy runs an ad for their show “Ghost Hunters.” I’m terrified of that show.

Everyone is afraid of something, whether it’s spiders, snakes or the dentist.

I’m afraid of sharks, rats and ghosts. I’m especially afraid of finding any of them in my house. I suppose finding a rat or a ghost in your room after midnight is the scariest thing, but sharks are still at the top of the list. How scary would it be to find a shark at the foot of the bed? Yikes!

Fear isn’t always logical. I don’t believe in leprechauns, but if you want to be afraid of them, go for it! I will even hide the Lucky Charms when you visit. In other words, let me be afraid of ghosts. I believe.

“Ghost Hunters” gives me the heebie-jeebies. “Ghost Hunters” and/or any of their copycat shows.

I’m afraid of any shows where they run around in infrared light and yell, “Is someone there?” “Something just touched me!” and “Is your name Sally?”

It’s frightening when they call out to a particular ghost, especially some little girl ghost. I’m extremely afraid of little girl ghosts. They are the creepiest because they always have old-fashioned girl’s names like Sarah, Martha or Sally. The old-fashioned name ups the fear factor. There is never a Tiffany or a Jennifer. You can’t scare people if your name is Tiffany.

Though it would be frightening to hear a ghost say, “I think we’re alone now.”

Every single episode of these shows happens like this: “Here’s a creepy place.” It’s usually an old jail, hospital or mental institution.

Side note: Do we really have THAT many old jails, hospitals and mental institutions lying around?!

Then, the leader says, “We’re going to stay overnight here with our special ghost-hunting equipment. Let’s split up into groups.” He points to the biggest scaredy-cat and says, “Go down to the basement.”

For the record, I’m not going to the basement. That’s a rookie mistake.

I picture myself hanging out with the camera crew as they go into the bowels of some allegedly haunted hotel. That ear-shattering scream wouldn’t be a banshee. It’d be me. I’d be the one screaming as soon as I got a face full of cobweb, yelling “It’s on my face! It’s on my face!” and fleeing in terror.

I’d be walking behind someone clutching them like a human shield, a Will Robinson to my Dr. Zachary Smith, as it were.

As soon as I would hear a noise, I’d be out of there. There’s only one catch: Running around a darkened mental institution on national television is starting to sound better than working for a living.

“Hello, Ghost Hunters? Do you have an opening?”