Quinn Noll's Blog, page 3

Exploring the Unknown: Coincidence or Design?

Simple weirdness or a cosmic alignment of the universe?

If you’ve read my book, The Apostle’s Fury, (and really, who hasn’t😜) you will recall the dashing FBI Agent, Jake Devereaux, explaining to our heroine that there is no such thing as coincidence, only design. After doing a little bit of research, I am starting to think that, perhaps, Jake is on the right track. Maybe everything really is part of the big picture, the grand design.

Kind of gives you the creeps, right? Contemplating if somewhere, out there, there’s a short bald guy with a monocle and a cane (think the Monopoly guy here) who is directing fate and the universe to intertwine with our reality.

Don’t believe me? Read on, boys and girls, while I blow your socks off with some of the craziest coincidences I’ve found.

We’ll begin with family coincidences…and the twins from Ohio.

Two boys, separated at birth, went on to be adopted. They were both named James by their adoptive parents and both had sons they named James. Both boys married women named Linda and divorced them. Both remarried ladies named Betty. Jim and Jim also both had dogs named Toy and grew up to be police officers.

You recall the name John Wilkes Booth, right? Turns out his family and Abraham Lincoln’s would be connected before Booth assassinated the President. A year before Booth killed Lincoln, his brother, Edwin, is credited with saving Lincoln’s son, Robert Todd, as a boy. Robbie, it seems, got a bit too close to some train tracks and Edwin pulled him to safety. Years later, Robert Todd would not only be witness in some respects to his father’s assassination, but he also witnessed the assassination of both James Garfield and William McKinley.

Makes you wonder if that’s why the fellow never ran for office.😳

Here’s one about being in the wrong place at the wrong time…In 1974, a taxi driver in Bermuda struck and killed a man riding his moped. One year later, that same driver (carrying the same passenger) would strike and kill the first man’s brother, who was riding the same moped. On the same street.

Dang that’s rough.

Here’s another one having to do with family: When constructing the Hoover Dam, over 100 men were killed in various accidents. The first man to die was a fellow named George Tierney. George was a surveyor, scoping out the possible positioning of the dam, when he fell in the Colorado River and drowned on December 20, 1922. The last man to die working on the dam was Patrick Tierney, George’s son. He died thirteen years later, in 1935, on, you guessed it, December 20th.

Filed under the tagline “It’s hell to travel”, a woman named Violet Jessup became known as ‘Miss Unsinkable” after surviving the sinking of not one, not two, but three ocean vessels: The Olympic in 1911, the Titanic in 1912, and the Britannic in 1916.

You’d think she’d get a clue. I wonder if future passengers booked a ticket only with the caveat “As long as SHE won’t be sailing with us.”

Sometimes, it pays to be cheap. A man named Maarten de Jorge was booked on two separate Malaysian Air Flights in 2014. Both times, he bumped his ticket at the last moment for a cheaper flight. The angels must have been smiling on him, because the first flight he changed ended up being shot down over the Ukraine. And the second? Disappeared without a trace, somewhere over the Indian Ocean.

This one is nutty, too. In 1746, a man by the name of Jean Marie (? really) Dubarry was sentenced to death after killing his father. One hundred years after his execution, a man named Jean Marie (?again?) Dubarry, no relation, was executed for the crime of patricide. Which, for those of you in the back, means killing your Pops.

Then we have the case of the South American astronomer who was doing a lecture tour, speaking about how death can strike us anywhere, at any time, without warning. Following the talk, he popped a mint in his mouth and choked to death.

But at least his breath was minty fresh.

Edgar Allen Poe was a character, wasn’t he? Some say he was also a psychic. In one of the freakiest coincidences I’ve ever heard, Poe wrote a story about four sailors whose boat suffered crippling injuries at sea. Stranded and starving, they catch a sea turtle and eat it but, alas, it is not enough for four men. Deciding someone must be sacrificed, they draw straws and the poor cabin boy named Richard Parker comes up short.

I heard he went well with some fava beans and a nice Chianti. But, still, all in Poe’s imagination, right?

Perhaps not. Forty-six years later, a yacht called the Mignonette left England for Australia. Not exactly a ‘sail around the world’ kind of vessel, it sank during a storm. The crew of four men, on a lifeboat, were able to catch a turtle to eat the first day. But, well you get the picture.

Enter a young cabin boy who, terrified, drank some seawater and became quite ill. His castaway ‘friends’ did a ‘dog pile on the rabbit’ move and killed him, drinking his blood and then devouring him. But the strangest part? The kids name was Richard Parker.

I know what you’re thinking. That’s cray cray—And I’m never going on a yacht or a moped or a Malaysian airline or a luxury liner. I’m with ya, there, my friends.

Did you know Thomas Jefferson and John Adams, one-time friends who became political rivals, died within hours of each other on July 4th, 1826, the fiftieth anniversary of the signing of the Declaration of Independence? And that a third Founding Father, James Monroe, died five years later, also on the fourth of July?

The more you know.

Last but surely not least, we have the curious case, the parallels between Abraham Lincoln and John F. Kennedy. Some of these you may have heard of, some of the ‘facts’ that I’ve heard of comparing these two felt kind of weak, so I left them out. What’s left is, what I believe, beyond coincidence. Take a gander and see what ye think.

*Lincoln and Kennedy both were assassinated, shot in the back of the head. Lincoln was shot in Ford’s theater, Kennedy was shot in a Lincoln, made by the Ford Company.

*Both men died on a Friday and in the presence of their wives. Both were killed right before a major holiday, Easter for Lincoln and Thanksgiving for Kennedy.

*Kennedy had a secretary named Mrs. Lincoln. Lincoln had two male secretaries, both named John.

*The two Presidents each lost a son while serving in the Whitehouse. Lincoln lost his son, Willie, and Kennedy lost his infant boy, Patrick.

*Lincoln became President in 1860. Kennedy, in 1960.

*Their vice-presidents were both named Johnson.

*And speaking of their successors, Andrew Johnson was born in 1808, Lyndon Johnson in 1908.

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So, there you have it, gang. Some of the freakiest, strangest coincidences I could dig up. I hope you learned something today and have found this as interesting as I did. I hope you never stop looking for parallels and coincidences in our existence.

And I hope you never ask me to draw straws with you while we are on a sinking ship.

Til next time, my friends! Just keep swimming!

—Q

Exploring the Unknown: The Power of Three!

Do you know your A, B, Three’s?

Ever wonder why the number three seems to be such a magical presence in the bible and beyond? Well, sit a spell and relax while I regale you with some fascinating fact ;)

Ready, set, go! (See what I did there?😁)

We say that our senses all interconnect as spirit, mind, and body. Most numbers seem to have a spiritual meaning, but it’s the number three that blows the rest of them out of the park. Three is a triad, a number that contains a beginning, middle, and end. Birth, life, death. Past, present, and future.

In the bible, the number three appears 467 times!

Holy Moly!

Three represents the Trinity; the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. There were three fathers of the Israelite nation; Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. The Three Wise Men came bearing three gifts…gold, frankincense and myrrh. In speaking of Peter’s denial, Jesus said, ‘Before the rooster crows, you will deny me three times.’ It was in the third hour of the day that Christ was crucified, and He died at three pm. He rose from the dead on the third day. He practiced his teachings for three years and raised three people from the dead.

Until his death. At the age of 33.

Mind. Blown.

There are three angels mentioned in the bible; Gabriel, Michael, and Lucifer. The number 333 is called the Angel number and if you see it after praying, your prayers will soon be answered. Angelic beings are placed into three triads or levels. The Seraphim( full of grace), the Cherubim or Cherub (full of knowledge) and the Thrones (full of divinity).

And don’t even get me started on the Book of Revelations and the number three. Truly terrifying.😳 The mark of the beast is 666, double the angel number of 333.

Now, as easy as one, two, three…let’s click our heels three times and move on.

The number three is revered in many cultures and countless religions. There are fairytales and folklore that consistently reference the number three. Three Blind Mice, Three Little Pigs, Goldilocks and the Three bears. There is a legend that still stands today that anywhere an Oak, Ash, and a thorn tree gather is the place where faeries live.

We get three guesses, three wishes, and three bowls of porridge🤢 Because third times a charm😜

We need three primary colors to make most other colors; red, yellow, and blue. The shamrock or three-leaf clover, symbolizes Ireland. Want more fun facts? An octopus has three hearts and a camel has three eye-lids. A cat also has a third eyelid called a haw, though I can’t find it anywhere on Betty🐱‍👤In Japan, we have Three Wise Monkeys—Kikazaru, covering his ears to hear no evil; Mizaru, covering his eyes to see no evil; and Iwazaru, covering his mouth to speak no evil.

Silly monkeys. Everyone knows, two is company, three’s a crowd.

In Greek Mythology, three brothers—Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades, each ruled their own world. Their counterparts in Roman Mythology were Jupiter, Neptune, and Pluto.

Apparently, Goofy was on vacay.😆

Even in sports, we are surrounded by the power of three. It’s three strikes you’re out and three outs to an inning for your team. In football, players have a three-point stance and a field goal is worth three points. Scoring three goals in hockey is a hat trick, and, in horse racing, jockeys dream of winning the Triple Crown.

A triathlon consists of swimming, bicycling, and running. Crazy talk.

In music, we have the groups Third Eye Blind, Three Dog Night, and Three Doors Down. In song, I’d like you to Gimme Three Steps so we can toss Three Coins in a Fountain.

And then, Knock Three Times if you love someone Three Times a Lady.

But it’s not all roses and hearts. Three can also symbolize the nasty. Three is a part of the number 13, long thought to be a symbol of bad luck. Airplanes have no row 13, hotels omit the 13th floor, and Formula 1 race cars jump from car 12 to 14. Heck, even poison ivy and its ‘leaves of three, let it be’ have gotten into the act.😆

In witchcraft, whatever you put into the world returns to you three-fold. Poltergeists will knock or bang on the walls three times to let you know you’re not alone. Demonologists will tell you that if a ghost attacks and leaves three scratches on your skin, it’s probably not a ghost at all, but a demon.

As if knowing that will make you feel any better.

Many people subscribe to the theory that bad things come in three’s. Every go to two funerals in succession and hear someone say, ‘Wonder who the third will be?’

Yeah. Me, too.

So, why else are we in love with the number three? I mean, aside from the fact that I am one of three children and my house number growing up was 30?😆

Because one is the loneliest number. And two can be as bad as one. And six is afraid of seven ‘cause 7 ate 9. Because it’s an angel number that symbolizes wisdom and harmony, good fortune and success. Because the planet where you live and love is the third planet from the sun.

Because of my boys, Moe, Larry, and Curly.

So many three’s, so little time. Hope you enjoyed this history of lucky number three. As for me, I’ll be on the deck enjoying a three-martini lunch and getting three sheets to the wind🍸🥂

Three Cheers to three!

This I Know...We Live in the Greatest Country in the World!

Image credit: Getty Images

Here we go…another non-paranormal blog because of circumstances we are dealing with as a country. I know I promised to return to our regularly scheduled programming this week. I know I vowed to get back to the “World of the Weird.” But I can’t. Not yet. Because the storm that has fallen upon us the last few weeks is it’s own force, an impetus that begs us to stop and evaluate just what is important in this life.

In fact, I can give you 13 reasons why this post is so important. And at the conclusion, I will.

People. All people. Black or white, foreign or domestic, it’s the people of this world that matter. Here is a truth bomb for you…somedays I wish we could return to September 12, 2001. Because in that month, in the days after that horrific attack that changed our perception of security, in that year of fear and grief and uncertainty, we were united. United in our stories of survival, our tales of tragedies and miracles, our vow to stand together.

We helped neighbors and fed communities and banded together. Because, in the end, we are Americans. And living in the land of the free and home of the brave comes with responsibilities.

Responsibilities to look out for one another. To ensure that we have each other’s backs, that we will fight for our rights, that we will leave no man or woman behind. Ever.

But we did, didn’t we? In a disgusting display of cowardice and selfishness, we left behind people that we knew would die. And the very worst part of it? They knew it, too. And now, they know they are marked for death. As we speak, they are hiding with their families, huddled in God knows what kind of deplorable conditions, praying for a savior, yet knowing no one is coming to help them. Instead, they wait in terror for that door to kick in, for the enemy to arrive, no doubt cursing us for our betrayal and cursing themselves for daring to trust us.

Hell, we even gave the enemy a list of our supporters.

And that’s just something I just can’t wrap my head around. Seriously, it keeps me up at night. I watched a TikTok video recently that depicted our soldiers standing guard around a fenced-in area. There were women and children there, begging for help. One lady, a young girl, was crying, pleading for her life. The only message I heard clearly from her cries? “Please! The Taliban, the Taliban are coming for me!” I can’t shake that voice from my head and I wasn’t even there.

Imagine how that echoes in heads of the soldiers who were.

Baby being tossed over barbed wire fence. Image credit: Metro

We left an untold amount of Americans behind in Afghanistan, some say the number is in the thousands, including children. We left groups of Afghanis willing to help our cause, people who risked their lives, who trusted that we would protect them. Always.

And we failed them. Like Judas, we turned our backs to them. We left them there, among the wolves, to fend for themselves.

To die.

I feel angry. I feel betrayed by our leaders. How could we leave our people behind, knowing what the Taliban is capable of? Do we not recall the public executions, the beheadings, the murders committed by the Taliban and Isis?

And I can only imagine how our allies feel, the sacrificial lambs, the individuals who are classified as collateral damage. How would anyone ever trust us again? More importantly, should they?

We cannot have it both ways. Some demand sanctuary and passage for those beyond our borders, for it’s the humanitarian way of our country. We expect our nation to protect all lives, foreign and domestic. But then, in a blink and under the darkness of night, we abandon our posts and leave our people and allies to fend for themselves.

To be gathered into camps, imprisoned, waiting for judgement.

And there is little outcry.

I am reminded of all the reasons we are supposed to be the greatest country in the world. And the reasons why that title is slipping through our fingers, becoming just a memory, a shadow fading in the distance.

It starts with respecting what patriotism truly is; respect of each other and acknowledgement of the sacrifices made. Somehow, the lines got blurred between what this country symbolizes and the skewed perceptions of what it should be.

It starts with vilifying what should be precious to every American; a simple piece of cloth that speaks of courage and morality and strength.

It starts with the flag, and with pride in our country, our people, and our constitution. I believe we need to get back to that place where our flag is revered, not denounced.

Our American flag represents freedom. Freedom to speak, to assemble, to practice any religion you desire. Those freedoms were delivered to us upon the backs of our country’s military. Military personnel that consist of every color of the rainbow. Soldiers who came home in a box, draped by that very flag.

Those men and woman died so their fellow Americans could spit on that flag. Kneel before it or burn it or stomp it into the ground. We have the freedom to do it all.

But, as in everything in life, just because you can doesn’t mean you should. The men and women who died for a cause, the ones who stormed the beaches of Normandy or dropped out of planes into enemy territory or climbed 110 floors to reach people burning on 9-11, gave their lives to protect us. Because the red, white and blue meant everything to them.

And yet, even knowing that, there are those that kneel, those who refuse to stand in the mistaken belief that their defiance is making a statement. Their hope is that their rebellion is righting an injustice, drawing attention to a societal issue. Sadly, it only serves to divide us further.

There is a huge difference between the sins of society and the sins of the flag. Our colors symbolize the lessons learned through the conflicts and pain of the past. You want to join a movement supporting the folks in this nation who feel repressed? Go for it. I salute you. You will find more people listening to your argument if it’s presented without trashing the one thing we associate with unification and standing tall.

Remember: The flag has done nothing to you as an individual. There is no such thing as “me” in a nation. It is us, we, ours. Our stars and stripes serve as a notice, giving the world a heads up not to mess with us. Because we, the people, have been willing to die for a cause in the past.

And we are willing to die for a cause in the future. Anything else is a pointless, self-serving life. I believe we are better than that.

The people of this land are being herded by shepherds who couldn’t give a rat’s about our causes. As long as we comply with their agenda.

Complacency.

Don’t misunderstand me. There is a legitimate beef against some people in this nation who rail against those of color or individuals who worship another God or people who love who they want to love. These are stains on society, individuals with only hate in their hearts who would like nothing more to divide us.

But…and this is important…you will not find justice in a symbol of peace. You will not find vindication in the colors that are there to inspire us to do better, to be better.

Rather, the flag should serve as a reminder that, in America, we are colorblind. We are tone-deaf to sexual orientation or race or religion. Because—you guessed it—we are free. We are a big, beautiful melting pot, a canvas of God’s creations set upon this earth to do wondrous things.

It’s time to get those stranded, terrified people out of Afghanistan. All of them. It’s time to stand up as one, to put the world on notice that we are strong, we are united, and we are back.

As for the 13 reasons why this blog is so important…

Sgt. Johanny Pichardo, Sgt. Nicole Gee, Staff Sgt. Darin Hoover, Cpl. Hunter Lopez, Cpl. Daegan Page, Cpl. Humberto Sanchez, Lance Cpl. David Espinoza, Lance Cpl. Jared Schmitz, Lance Cpl. Rylee McCollum, Lance Cpl. Dylan Merola, Lance Cpl. Kareem Nikoui, Navy Corpsman Maxton Soviak, Staff Sgt. Ryan Knauss.

…and until we meet again, may God hold you in the palm of his hand.

Peace, my friends

—Q

"Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God" Matthew 5:9

Thin Blue Line Flag

This weeks theme will be different than others I’ve done in the past. There is nothing speculative, nothing paranormal to see here today. Only the gut-wrenching truths that face us as a nation, truths that uncover the hatred, bigotry and bias against law enforcement in this country. This blog may cause some of you to stop reading, right about— here. And I’m okay with that.

Some things just need to be said.

Posting this may make some folks uncomfortable or cause others to debate my position, get angry that I even brought it up. Again, I don’t care.

Knowledge is power.

Finally, writing this may cause me to lose some followers, maybe even cost me some book sales. And for this one, I really don’t care. Because the majority of my amazing family and friends wear the badge, take the risks, protect and serve. I consider the entire law enforcement community family. And I will fight with them, for them, as long as I draw breath.

Because some things are more important than the needs of the one. And for those who don’t understand—well, you get the idea.

I believe that, while most people in this country admire and respect every branch of law enforcement, they have been shamed into silence. There are those who will equate supporting a cop with racism and tyranny. So for all of you, I will be your mouthpiece; I will stand up. As for the minority who choose to demonize my family, take a seat and listen.

You just might learn something.

WE THE PEOPLE ARE PISSED: One of the most impactful things I’ve ever read I found on a T-shirt, a coffee mug, and also on a social media meme. It read “A society that makes war with its police should be prepared to make peace with its criminals.” Over the last few years, the very men and women who put their lives on the line every day to protect the innocent have been vilified, verbally abused, and physically attacked. They’ve been punched and kicked and spit on for doing their job.

Credit Wttw.com

They’ve been shot at, stabbed, and run over by cowards who feign bravery inside the security of a vehicle. While some in this country have buried their heads in the sand, refusing to either acknowledge or rebel against the treatment of our officers, our cops are being slaughtered. Ordinary men and women, people with spouses and kids and parents who adore them.

People who proudly wear the badge and accept the dangers involved. Officers who understand that, while the majority run away from danger, they must run toward it. They must face the demons and right the wrongs, despite every survival instinct in their body screaming at them to stop, to turn around.

To live.

Every job has its stressors. My goal as a writer is to get just one more chapter done, write one more blog, meet one more deadline. Writing is my passion, but some days dealing with plot holes and research and dangling participles gets stressful.

Admittedly, I’ve never have to worry that I will get hurt or killed pounding a keyboard.

The cops who work the street worry about it every day. They start their shift with a cloud over their heads, wondering if today will be the last day they see their loved ones. The realism of mortality can mess with the mind. It is always there, a shadowed darkness lurking in the background.

An uninvited guest that refuses to leave.

It’s no wonder the life expectancy for a cop is abysmal. Every home they visit, every car they stop, every encounter they have, could be their last. Each shift is bathed in obscurity as they enter uncharted waters. There is no such thing as routine. They must always be ‘on, and are trained to expect the unexpected.

Because once they lower their shields, they become vulnerable—proof positive that becoming a cop isn’t a job, it’s a calling.

Bravery is defined as being scared to death and going in anyway, proud to be given the opportunity to serve. Integrity is doing the right thing even when one is watching. And courage is determined not by those who challenge a familiar opponent, but by those who fight a faceless enemy.

Pride. Integrity. Guts.

Our finest are being systematically taken out by a society who have become sheep, blindly following the loudest shepherd. Individuals who claim to be ‘woke’, who jump on their soapboxes waving signs and sporting flags, purporting to be on a mission of right and justice while waging a war against law officers all over the nation.

And no one is stopping it.

WE THE PEOPLE ARE DISGUSTED: Disgusted by the inaction of our leaders to correct this mindset. Outraged at the news media, whose only aim is selling copy or increasing ratings. Shocked that, unless you live under a rock, you understand the motives of these outlets but continue to patronize their lies. Repulsed that some continue to swallow the stereotypical ‘bad cop’ scenario, one that would have you believe that every person who wears the uniform is a pompous and arrogant dictator.

We are sickened that a story about the killing of a cop gets buried beneath a ‘who wore it better’ segment on the nightly news. We are offended that every police shooting involving a person of color is deemed racially motivated, often days before the facts are in.

We are annoyed that stories of burning and looting and assault are being pushed in a false narrative, one that describes those crimes as ‘protesting’ rather than what they truly are…rioting, civil disobedience, social insurrection.

Most of all, we are disgusted to know that, although the majority of Americans support the men and women in blue, they are afraid to say it out loud. Afraid to align themselves with what a minority consider the ‘enemy.’ And so, the majority remains silent, and the attacks against our police grow.

Silence conveys acceptance and consent. We’d all do well to remember that.

WE THE PEOPLE ARE HEARTBROKEN: And devastated beyond words. As of this writing, there have been 196 Line of Duty deaths in this country. Unfortunately, by the time this is published, that number may grow. But it was the last brutal killing that really spoke to me, really urged me to write about this subject.

Say her Name….Officer Ella G. French.

Ella was a police officer for three years with the Chicago Police Department. During a routine traffic stop, she and her partner were fired upon. Ella was shot in the back of the head and reportedly died on the scene. As of this writing, her partner, shot in the eye, brain, and shoulder, was in critical condition, clinging to life.

Ella was only 29 years old. The mayor of the city of Chicago blamed ‘guns and the violence they bring,’ for her death. Which really is like blaming the fork for the weight gain, the skateboard for your shattered ankle, or the booze for your hangover. Actions have consequences, and the only blame we can assign for mishaps and tragedies in our lives is on the living.

I blame the savage who held that gun.

Ella is one of 196 too many. In August alone, we have had 4 others: Officer Scott Dawley, Nelsonville PD in Ohio, auto crash; Officer George Gonzalez, US Department of Defense, stabbed; Officer Brian Russell Pierce, Brooklyn PD in Illinois, vehicular assault; and Deputy Sheriff Brandon A. Shirley, Jefferson County Sheriff Department, Kentucky, gunfire. Each one left a family, friends, people who loved them.

People who grieve them. And it’s only the beginning of August.

We the people need to take a stand against those who would subvert law and order. We must rally against those who decry the good works of the majority of law officers because of the actions of a few rogue cops, cops who don’t deserve the honor of the badge.

Daily, we are asked not to judge people by race, creed, sexual orientation or color. Yet, we fail to see the absurdity in judging the selfless acts of the many by the wayward acts of the few.

The irony astounds.

WE THE PEOPLE HAVE YOUR BACK: In good times or bad, in sickness or health, Americans and their protectors are united in a common goal—to keep this country and her people safe. To enable every man, woman, and child to walk the streets without fear. It is a job fraught with responsibility and peril and sacrifice.

And it is one impossible to do alone.

So to all of you out there who wear a badge, hear me now…I will not stop talking about it, I will not stop educating people to the truth, and I will not stop fighting for you. You deserve to be heard and respected. You have earned the right to do your job, free of interference from those who know nothing of what you do.

Because the hands that shackle you belong to those who condemn your profession, yet demand your protection.

As for me, I thank you. And I will always have your six.

#backtheblue #thinblueline

Stay safe, my people💙💙

—Q

Exploring the Unknown: Tools of the Trade

Raise your hand if you remember playing “Light as a feather, stiff as a board.”…but wait until you put her down first😜

As kids, our idea of a séance was a bit different than that of an adult. I recall slumber parties where we played Bloody Mary (that game scared the crap out of me!), Light as a Feather (AKA She looks dead) or told ghost stories. Light as a Feather was a game where someone would lay on their back, the participants would surround them, and they would all place two fingers beneath the ‘victim’, head to toe. The ‘dead’ person would close their eyes and cross their arms over their chest in repose.

The room would be black as pitch, with only a single candle flickering in the dark. Spooky😱👻

Then, the chanting would begin. Each person, in a round-robin fashion, would say ‘she looks sick.” Next, ‘she is sick,” etc and so forth, with each person reciting it. The last line was something like, “She is dead; let her spirit rise.” And everyone would lift, using just their two fingers, and the victim would, supposedly, levitate effortlessly.

Nah, not so much. Although I do recall once where a bunch of us panicked because it was soooo easy to lift our friend. As an adult, I realize it’s all about leverage and timing, but I swear—when we were twelve or thirteen years-old, my friends and I had some kind of secret power!

That being said, I also know now that, as a kid, I wasn’t very bright. Oh, I don’t mean the crayon-eating, window -licking kind of dopey child who mistakes litterbox poop for a castle in the sand. I mean that I fooled around with stuff I didn’t understand, knew nothing about, and had no business messing with.

Take the Ouija board, for example.

Credit: iStockphoto.com

Okay, okay, I know. Half of you think the Ouija has gotten a bad rap, that it’s only a piece of wood whose planchette is moved by the participants playing the game, not by some occult force. The other half of you are dangerously close to having to change your shorts just by hearing me bring up the name ‘Ouija.’

And, for you believers, God help the poor sap who parades a spirit board in front of you, or horrors of horrors, brings one to your home!

So, which side of the coin are you? Who is right here? Well, as always, I think the truth lies somewhere in the middle. No, I don’t believe the board itself is possessed or contains magic (except if you are Hasbro and making a killing—no pun intended—on sales at Halloween. Then, there’s magic in profit 😉) However, I do worry that its reputation puts people in a certain frame of mind that can invite some nasty stuff into their lives.

The mystery is not so much in the tool, but how it’s used.

Take a Kitchen-Aid appliance, for example. My owning a five-hundred dollar blender isn’t going to make me a great cook, but it’s gonna make me think I’m a great cook. 😉( By the way, I don’t own a five-hundred dollar blender, just to be clear lol) Similarly, playing with a spirit board, (which, just so you know, is sooo not a toy) can create the illusion of power along with an obsessive need to explore the other side, opening doorways that you have no idea how to close.

Way to go, Crayola breath.

My advice? Back away, quickly, from ‘friends’ who invite you to play.

So, what of the other tools out there? (No, not him. I’m talking divination tools 😜). Tarot cards and tea leaves and dowsing rods. Even astrology is considered a tool of the paranormal or occult, although that will be a blog unto itself someday. As for the others, let’s take a look, shall we?

Everybody loves a good Tarot reading. Darby Harrison, Katie Callahan’s best friend in the Shadow Sisters Trilogy, loves the cards and has been known to do impromptu readings. But, are they truly a predictor of the future? Gaze into my crystal ball (just kidding…all I have is a Magic 8 Ball, whose usual answers are ‘Very doubtful’ or ‘Ask again later.’)

To which I reply, well, what if there is no later, Mr. Eight ball? What if I’m asking a life or death question?

A response that cements the idea that I truly am not very bright, and that, somewhere, a village is missing their idiot.🙄

Where was I? Oh, right, the Tarot. The Tarot deck is divided into two sections, the major arcana (things in your life of great importance) and the minor arcana (the rest of the fluff in your life.) Before a reading, the cards are shuffled and laid out in a pattern. The person getting read asks a specific question, and the cards, to believers, provide an answer.

Credit: Unsplash.com

Each card has a picture and can mean several different things. For example, the Death card doesn’t have to mean physical death. It could mean a transition, the end of a relationship, or even that a bad force will enter your life. The whole thing is subjective, really, and up to the interpretation of the card reader.

Kind of like a cold reading from a psychic, you will cram the bits of the puzzle however you can to fit your situation. It’s basic human nature. My thoughts? It’s a fun way to pass the time, but I wouldn’t take it to heart.

The same goes for Tasseograpy. What, you ask? Since I always want you to walk away from this blog learning something, I threw this one in. It means reading tea leaves!

Nope, I never heard of the word either! And I will probably never use it again.

Reading tea leaves is a fading art, I fear. Taken over by psychics on stage and Tarot readings at carnivals and carrying crystals for emotional and spiritual health. But…if you like tea, and are willing to do some research, tea leaf reading is sure to be a hit at your next party!

Much as everything else we discussed here, reading tea leaves is all about interpretation and our inner, passionate belief that whatever the leaves tell you is gospel. The person being read, called the ‘querent’, drinks a cup of tea and then asks very specific questions they need answered. The tasseographer then assesses the pattern of the tea leaves at the bottom of the cup, discovering the answer to their question by how the tea leaves are arranged.

Out there? Perhaps. But what a cool parlor trick!

Finally, we have the dowsing, also known as divining, rod. As early as the sixteenth century, people have used dowsing rods to locate water, minerals, or precious metals (although sometimes in secret as it was thought to be a form of witchcraft). Using either Y-shaped rods from a tree branch, or metal L-shaped rods, the theory is the dowser walks the land and, when the target is below the rods, the instrument will dip (as in the Y rods) or cross on itself (as in the L shaped rods) indicating the treasure they seek lies below them.

Credit: Pinterest.com

But does it work? Sadly, all of the studies I looked at say no. It seems that the devices ability to locate water or minerals, whether a Y or L rod, is just as accurate as finding it by chance.

Bummer. I could’ve used a set of dowsing rods to locate the missing items in my home…grandma’s candy dish, the tub of butter I know is in the fridge, the socks gone missing on the trip from the hamper to the laundry room.

Alas, I am forced to find them alone…sockless, nibbling on dry toast and peppermint candies from a bag.

Like a savage.

So, there you have it! Everything you wanted to know about paranormal divination tools but were afraid to ask! Or, in my case, you asked and the Magic 8 Ball told you, “Don’t count on it.”

Until next time, my Mighty Quinnlets!

—Q

Exploring the Unknown: Premonitions and Prophets

We’ve all heard it before. Theologians or spiritual philosophers, cults members or religious zealots, throwing up their hands ,running around with their hair (or, in the case of monks, their robes) on fire, portending the end of days. History is rife with examples of doomsday predictions and warnings that the apocalypse was upon us. If I had a nickel for every time I’ve read about one group or another telling us the sky was, like literally, falling, I’d have a buck fifty, easily.

Maybe even two bucks.

Truth is, most modern-day prognosticators aren’t very smart. I mean, if you are going to give an ‘end of the world’ date in this decade, you’d best make sure we are all going down in flames by that day. Otherwise, you look like every other jamoke claiming to be a visionary. A better bet would be to state that your catastrophic prophecy will occur at a much later time— like, when you’re already dead, so no one can come banging at your door, calling you a charlatan or phony-baloney or a doo-doo head. (Ok, maybe not that, but you get where I’m going here.)

Take Nostradamus, for example. The man was a bloody genius. He died in 1566, yet most of his predictions centered around events that would occur long after he died. Except for his own death. It is said that he told an assistant the night before he died that, “You will not find me alive at sunrise.” Sure enough, the next morning, he was found dead on the floor. Aside from that, his most famous (and supporters would say most accurate) predictions were about events of our time. He is said to have predicted both world wars, the rise of Hitler, Princess Diana’s death, and even 9/11.

Pretty impressive resume.

A side note here: As a physician, Nostradamus spent a great deal of his life helping others. His ideas about fighting the spread of disease, specifically the bubonic plague, included prescribing such things as fresh water, vitamin C, and strict hygiene. These ideas relating to infection control were ahead of his time and led to the recovery of many patients. Ironically, sadly, while he was saving villages, his wife and two young children contracted and succumbed to the disease.

The more you know. Anyway…

Source: Britannica.com

Another prophet you may have heard of is Edgar Cayce. Called the ‘sleeping prophet’, Cayce always entered a meditative state before making a prediction, blurting out whatever came in mind, and his wife or an assistance would record his words. Talk about having nothing to hide from the missus!

Bravo, Eddie!🙌

It is said that Edgar never accepted a dime from people he ‘read’, which says a ton about the man, in my opinion. Among his most famous (and accurate?) predictions was the 1929 Stock Market crash and the start of WW2 (which he predicted in 1935) . But, as a medical professional, his most stunning prediction was made in 1927, when he said that medical advances of the future would make it possible to diagnose a patient with just a drop of their blood.

Wowza. That was considered sci-fi stuff back then. Bold move, Maverick.

Source: EdgarCayce.Org

One woman you’ve probably never heard of— at least I hadn’t— is a woman named Rose Ann Schwab. Rose Ann ‘s predictions have a purported accuracy rate of 98% when tested. It has been said that she predicted the attacks on September 11th during a live interview while a guest on the talk show, “The View.” (Impressive, but my admiration drops a notch with her appearance on that show😜) She also knew Bin Laden would be captured during the Obama Administration, and predicted Michael Jackson’s death from a drug overdose and the massive earthquake that hit Iran in 2003.

How about 2021? Anything shakin’ our way this year? Well, I did find some 2021 predictions by a prophet/psychic medium, Baba Vanga, who lived in the mountains of Bulgaria from 1911 until her death in 1996. Blinded at an early age, her accuracy rate is said to be 85%, although it is difficult to know for sure. Illiterate, she was unable to write down her visions and so their documentation is second-hand.

So, do you want Baba’s good news or bad news first? Ok, let’s start with the bad. I always do that to bring my emotions back up from the basement. That way, it pretty much leaves ya where you started (but at least not any lower!) Ok, here we go! She predicted…

*Many catastrophes, plagues, and disasters for the world (gulp).

*She said that ‘three giants will unite’, and a ‘strong giant will seize humanity.’ Most believe this refers to China taking over as the world’s superpower, surpassing the US who currently holds that title.

*Former President Donald Trump will suffer with a debilitating illness, Russian President Putin will survive an assassination attempt and Muslim extremists will attack Europe using chemical warfare, killing thousands.

The good news? Vanga says we will defeat cancer! Her lips to God’s ears!

Some of her previous predictions that were accurate (I found several that were not) are that ‘two steel birds will attack our American brethren’ , meaning 9-11, the tsunami of 2004, and the sinking of a Russian nuclear submarine in 2000.

Want to hear what good ol’ Nostradamus says about 2021 and beyond? Warning: Stop reading now if you want to ever sleep again😬

No, seriously. It’s quite unpleasant and, with any luck, a bunch of hokum and hooey.

But, he predicted that plagues (covid, anyone?), famine, earthquakes and asteroids will all be in our future. He also said that Muslims will rule Europe, soldiers will incorporate artificial intelligence (read brain chips here) into their bodies to get a step up in warfare, and that on November 25, 2021, there will be an earthquake that will decimate California, virtually wiping it off the map. (Yikes!)

He also prophesized the assassination of Pope Francis, which will, in turn lead to the complete collapse of the Catholic Church. (I think I can speak for my fellow Catholics here when I say ‘double yikes!’)

But, here is the one that defies all explanation. He had a vision that foretold of a Russian scientist who will create a biological weapon, one that produces a deadly virus and turns humankind into (I swear I’m not making this up) zombies! That’s right folks! An old-fashioned zombie apocalypse!

Source: Pexels.com

Told you to stop reading!

No worries, though. According to Baba Vanga, the world isn’t going to end until somewhere around 5079, so we’re good😁

So, whatcha thinking? I mean, aside from ‘holy crapbags, why’d I read this?’ Pretty weird, huh? Personally, I take it all with a grain of salt. Most of the predictions these people make are generic and don’t come true.

But, just in case, I’m not planning a visit to California any time soon. And I’m going to start rationing my food. Oh, and I’m hoarding antibiotics, water and weapons. You know, just in case The Walking Dead really isn’t sci-fi😬

“Everything is food for something else.” Carl Grimes🤣

Next time on Exploring the Unknown, if there is a next time …oh, nevermind. Let’s just see how this prophecy thing plays out, shall we?

Later, gators

—Q

Exploring the Unknown: Unexplained Phenomena

If you could read my mind, love…RUN!

The next few blogs will focus on mysterious and unexplained abilities. Cool stuff😎

Quick! What am I thinking? No, no— that was last week. What am I thinking now? Not sure? Well, that’s because most of us don’t possess the ability to read minds. In parapsychology, there are a particular set of skills (not unlike Liam Neeson’s) which fall under the umbrella of extrasensory perception, or ESP. Clairvoyance (hello, Katherine Callahan!), precognition and telepathy are all considered part of the ESP spectral wheel, so to speak. And, although similar and often used interchangeably, there are subtle differences that you, as a Mighty Quinnlet, should know about, lest we look like amateurs to the rest of the world 😉

Image: Wikipedia

Clairvoyance is the bigger term here and carries the most weight (without feeling chunky). A clairvoyant is typically gifted with three distinct abilities or classes—precognition, retrocognition and remote viewing. Precognition is the ability to predict a future event, while in retrocognition, the person can see what has happened in the past. Remote viewing is, well, the weirdest of the three. Explored decades ago as a potential military weapon, the experiments centered on capitalizing on the idea that certain gifted individuals could ‘see’ an event after having contact or information about that event. So, the government hoped to discover all manor of maps and nefarious plans and secret hideouts of the enemy without even stepping foot in their country.

Yeah, not so much. After several years, it was clear (pun intended) that remote viewing had sketchy reputation and a limited, if any, value to national defense.

Credit: Gettyimages

But, fear not, my little believers! There is enough interest in clairvoyance that several high-profile, criminal cases have a history of using a psychic clairvoyant to help close the case. One that many of my Jersey people will recognize is the Amie Hoffman/Dierdre O’Brian murders in the early eighties. In that case, a local psychic, Nancy Weber, was brought in and eventually led detectives to their suspect. James Koedatich was convicted of murder and is serving two life sentences. Yay, Nancy🙌

Nancy Weber, by-the-by, also correctly identified the killer of another woman from NJ, Elizabeth Cornish. Nancy believed Elizabeth’s upstairs neighbor, despite his seemingly iron-clad alibi that centered around the victim’s time of death, was responsible. Turned out, after Nancy persisted in her claims, the coroner re-evaluated that time-of-death timeline and amended his original findings. John Reese was convicted and sentenced to life.

Again, yay Nancy!

Here is the most bizarre one, though! In May of ‘76, a 14-year-old named Susan Jacobson left her home in Staten Island for a job at a local ice cream parlor. She was never seen alive again. Originally thought to be a runaway, law enforcement officials were less than enthusiastic in their search for her. Desperate, her parents contacted a psychic named Dorothy Allison. At that first meeting, Allison had a vision of Susan being strangled by her boyfriend and provided clues about where her body could be found. She mentioned the smell of oil, an abandoned car, some smokestacks and a few random letters (MAR) that were written in red spray paint somewhere near the scene.

Although local police ignored these clues, Susan’s father was able to locate a rock with the letters ‘MAR’ spray-painted in red. The rock happened to be located in a isolated shipyard. Near two smokestacks. With an abandoned car nearby. Yes, I said that!

Two years later, Susan Jacobson’s body was found hidden in an oil drum. Her boyfriend was convicted and sentenced to 22 years in prison.

Now, if that tale doesn’t curdle your cream, nothing will!

So, you might be asking, what is the biggest difference between clairvoyance and telepathy? It has to do with how the information is received. In clairvoyance, the information a person gets is transmitted into pictures and images. In telepathy, it is received via thoughts and words. For example, let’s say you have two psychics working on the disappearance of Joe Schmo, a local missing person. Psychic A possesses telepathy and tells the police he or she hears the word “thirsty”, and the phrase “Hit me again.” Psychic B possesses clairvoyance and explains to police that he/she sees a run-down building and an empty bottle of whiskey. Eventually, the police locate him and discover that both psychics were on point, though it seemed they were headed in different directions.

Joe Schmo was passed out, in a seedy bar, with an empty bottle of whiskey. Dead drunk. Voila!

Ok, so this wasn’t a real case but you get the idea. Where the telepath will hear the information, the clairvoyant will see it. Many times the two are one and you have a pretty powerful psychic in your midst.

There are a vast number of parapsychologists who believe each one of us have a hidden psychic ability. We just have not found it or channeled it or polished it up. Here is a fun activity to try with your friends or family to see if, you too, can someday get a job with the government as a mind reading spy😅 It is an experiment that I read about and requires just three people. One person, we will call Suzy Sender (just cause it’s the first thing that popped in my head) creates a simple message to send to the other 2 people involved in the experiment via his or her mind. Let’s say she is eating a salad. She envisions the salad, noting its taste and texture, and ‘sends’ that picture to her friends as she is pretty much chanting ‘salad’ the whole time. In the test that I read about, the sender sent images of an orange. The next day, not only did her friends inexplicably see an orange in their minds eye and hear the word repeatedly bouncing around their noggin, they also ‘needed’ to eat one as it looked and sounded so good to them! How cool is that?

On a side note, I might try this on the husband. You know, send a message about that vacation in Ireland I’ve been dreaming about. 😂

But you already knew that, right?

Until next time my Mighty Quinnlets…send me a message😁

Exploring the Unknown: "But the batteries are out!" Haunted Toys...

Quick! What do you think of when I say “Baby Alive,” “Barbie,” or Raggedy Ann?”

If you’re like me, no doubt you have visions of a magical childhood, one filled with countless hours of make-believe play with your collection of doll babies. Now, what if I said, “Robert The Doll”, “Chuckie,” or “Annabelle?”

Yeah, that’s what I thought.

Those names scare the snot right outta ya, don’t they?😬 I know I’ve had more than one nightmare after watching The Conjuring. There’s something about a possessed object that moves that creepo-factor needle into the red. Imagine walking into a room and seeing the doll you just put in the toybox sitting in the middle of the floor…with an audience of stuffed animals and GI Joe’s surrounding it.

That’d put the fear of Jesus in you, for real.

This didn’t happen to me, thank goodness. I saw this once on a paranormal series on the SyFi channel. We did have a few weird instances with toys. Remember the Gizmo doll, the little creature from Gremlins? Damn thing wouldn’t stop talking so we removed the batteries. That worked for Gizmo…not so much for a Batmobile remote control car. Dang thing would go off every night, in the middle of the night, waking the house. We finally removed the batteries from the car. And it went off again.

And then, it went in the trash.

But, as always, I digress. Where were we? Oh, right, those creepy doll-things. If you have an opportunity, check out the TV show “Ghost Adventures” (hosts are kind of annoying but they come up with some pretty good footage) and the episode about the Island of Dolls(2014).

Holy Hannah, that was creepy AF.

Image Source: Trvl Channel/Ghost Adventures

The ‘Annabelle’ doll in The Conjuring movie was investigated by perhaps the most famous paranormal tag-team in the U.S. Ed and Lorraine Warren, a married couple with decades of experience in the paranormal, had their hands in many claims of supernatural activity and investigated countless prominent cases. Ed was a demonologist, Lorraine, a self-professed clairvoyant. Their cases included the Amityville haunting, the Smurl family haunting (which was the subject of the movie The Haunted) and Annabelle. The Warrens founded an Occult Museum to house all of these “possessed” items they encountered, keeping most items behind glass, in an attempt to shield people from harm. While I have no clue whether the Warrens, both deceased now, were legit or not, I always enjoyed listening to them speak and watching them work.

Image Source: Buzzfeed.com

As for their Occult Museum—I intend to do another blog just on those museum pieces and the history behind them. It would have been cool to actually visit the Connecticut home that houses the museum. Unfortunately, due to a zoning violation, it has been closed to visitors since 2019. I’m not sure when, or even if, it will reopen.

But if it does…road trip, anyone?😊

But enough of the girl dolls. How ‘bout that Robert The Doll character?

Image Source:Cayobo

Sailor suited “Robert” came into being in the early 1900s. He was given to a boy named Robert (who went by his middle name Gene) by his grandfather. Although the pair seemed inseparable, Gene constantly accused poor Robert of mischief—destroying toys, upending furniture, weird-ass giggling for no apparent reason—you get the picture.

Into adulthood, Gene kept Robert by his side (which, nothing for nothing, is, in itself, chilling😲) After Gene’s death, Robert remained in the house he ‘grew up’ in with the new owners. It was said that anyone who disparaged or talked ill of either Gene or Robert would be cursed by the doll. (Hey, Bob? Sorry about the ‘chilling’ comment above. Seriously, there’s nothing weird about keeping a doll on your desk like, forever😳)

In 1994, after having been donated by his current owner (like, what took you so long, dude? Oh, umm, apologies again, Bobby😬) Robert now resides in a museum, in a glass case, somewhere in beautiful Key West Florida, sipping Margaritas and lamenting of days gone by. They say he is even a fan of candy and people actually send him sweet treats several times a year.

Probably hoping to get on his good side.

In case you haven’t gotten there yet, Robert has a not-so-nice side as well (although I think he’s a peach. Right, Bob-O?) So, if you find yourself visiting him, just be kind and don’t dis Gene.

Oh, and ask permission first before you take his picture. He hates that.

Until next time, my Mighty Quinnlets…and remember, if your kid tells you the doll did it, they may not be telling a fib😉

Exploring the Unknown: They Really Like Me!

How do your people knock on the door?

It should come as no surprise to you that the Afterlife has always fascinated me. I love listening to the stories of friends and family. I love watching them cringe as they describe their personal experiences with the paranormal, tiptoeing around the REALLY weird parts because they want to sound more, well, more ‘sane’.

Pshaw, my friends….I never assumed you were sane to begin with 😜

But seriously, there is no standard or normal when it comes to these experiences. I have heard stories as simple as “I swear that cardinal came just when I was thinking about my mom,” to “And when the lights flickered and an old, translucent guy screamed at me to ‘get out!’, well, I about messed my shorts!”

Thankfully, this particular friend kept his shorts clean and his dignity intact.

I have shared several experiences that I’ve had over the years and withheld many because, frankly, I believe there is a fine line between ‘wow, how cool!’ to ‘ yeah, that’s something I could have gone my whole life without hearing!’ So, I will sit on some of the more bizarre encounters until ya’ll get your feet wet dippin’ in the paranormal waters of the next life while you’re still swimmin’ in this one.

Let’s dive in, shall we? (See what I did there? 😅) One of the things I believe is that the other side will always try to take the path of least resistance when reaching out to the living. Existing on another plane, in ethereal form, and trying to cross the divide is exhausting. So, what’s the easiest way to, metaphorically speaking or not, reach out and touch someone? Nope, it’s not AT&T. It’s…wait for it…

Electricity!

Manipulating televisions, turning on radios, flicking on lights. How many times have you been thinking about a loved one who has passed away, maybe tearing up or outright bawling like a newborn, when a song comes on that reminds you of them. A song that transports you magically to an event or time that you spent with your special person, or one that even has their name in the title or lyrics?

Case in point…my friend Eileen. Eileen was a good friend and a wonderful person who left this earth recently and unexpectedly. I think of her often and the other day, during a morning walk, I was especially missing her. Walking, listening to Sirius through my ear buds, ‘Come on, Eileen,’ comes on the radio. I haven’t heard that song in a decade, but there it was, blasting from my iPhone, causing me to smile. I used to say that line to her often; it was kinda our thing. I still miss her madly, but hearing that song brought me so much comfort, I downloaded it from iTunes and added it to a playlist.

Here is another example of ‘ Gosh, I guess they did like me!"‘ One Halloween, my family and I were sitting around the table at my mom’s house, reminiscing about our childhood and missing my father. For those of you who don’t know, my dad died suddenly in 1978. I was only 17 and it was a very tough time for all of us. Anyway, we were talking about this holiday or that, about the old house and incredible memories we held, too many to count. It was, I don’t think calming is the word, but centering maybe? Cathartic? All I know is I left feeling better than I had before we all took that short trip down memory lane.

That evening, about three in the morning, I was sleeping soundly when the sound of my cellphone, tucked inside my purse in the kitchen, woke me up. Groggy, I stumbled into the kitchen, dug through my purse (which, if you know me, know it’s like digging around the bottom of a Crackerjack’s box—you never know what kind of prize is at the bottom) and pulled it out to look at the display. The ringtone was unfamiliar, certainly not one that I had set my phone on. In fact, afterward, I could never replicate the sound.

Anyway, I notice I have a voice message but no missed call came up. I went to my messages, found the voicemail (that only had like a three or four digit number that came up as the caller) and pushed play.

It was a recording of the conversation my mom, sister and I had at the table—the part where we talked about my dad. The entire thing had recorded on a phone that was in my purse…one that I hadn’t touched all evening.

I was gobsmacked! (I don’t even know if that word fits here, but it’s such a fun word, I had to include it. Gobsmacked!) I have no explanation for this weirdness. How does a phone record a conversation anyway? And then call you in the middle of the night, displaying an impossible caller ID number while blaring a non-existent ringtone. But want to know the best part? Although I made sure not to delete the recording so I could share it with the fam, the recording was gone. Even weirder though was that the odd caller ID was there.

Maybe you can reach heaven by dialing 4672?

In my mind, that was just a unique way for my father to let us know he was around.

I have a million stories like that, both from my experiences and from listening to friends and family members recount their personal tales. Which is great, because it only adds a tangible-type of ‘real feel’ authenticity to the countless claims out.

Remind me to tell you about the pepperoni poltergeist sometime. Nuts.

Have an experience you’d like to share? You can do so below or at quinn@quinnnoll.com. If I include your experiences in a future blog, I promise to keep you anonymous.

I can’t say that for the dead, however. Those mercenary bastards may out you to your friends and family without blinking an eye. Or the ghostly image of an eye, in any case.

Until next time, my Mighty Quinnlets… Stay true to yourselves and just keep swimmin’—you’re doing fine.😁

—Q

 

 

 

Life After Covid (aka My face feels Nekkid)

The Long Road Back…

Well, I don’t know about you, but the last few weeks, I feel lighter. Not because of any diet (although I am doing that as well— fun fact! The average American gained 15 pounds over the course of our country’s quarantine. I checked the scale and think that particular survey was skewed by wishful thinking😒)

Anyhoo, we have a vaccine! We are shedding the chains of social distancing, tossing aside our masks (only in the presence of other people who are vaccinated, of course) and finally feel free to ‘move about the country,’ as they say! I, for one, am rejoicing, and I will tell you why…

If quarantine taught me one thing— it actually taught me several things but I digress— it’s that human beings are social creatures by nature. We are meant to exist in the company of others, whether at work or the grocery store or in the park.

A smile, a gentle touch, the sound of another person’s laughter echoing in the next room, are all things that remind us of our humanity. Taken away, we adapt by becoming what Covid dictated. Solitary beings, shut-ins.

Hermits. And not the good kind😉

Photo credit by Tengyart.

Over the last year and a half or so, we slipped into the role of self-isolation, perhaps too easily. Material things were just a click away, thanks to Amazon and other online shops. We were able to order groceries via a personal shopper, and completed our doctor visits virtually.

The country was on ‘pause’. Schools taught virtually, vacations were scrapped, many companies allowed their employees to work from home in their pj’s and fuzzy slippers. And it all worked for awhile.

Until that pesky bug in our ear, that devil on our shoulder, began to tell our brains that something was missing in our lives. That living like that, without prom and graduations and ballgames, kinda sucked. That being unable to visit our elderly parents, sit with a friend in a hospital room, or bury our loved ones, was barbaric and unsustainable.

We went an entire summer without walking the boardwalk at the shore, dining out with friends, or celebrating our country’s independence with a good ol’ fashioned barbeque.

Immediate family, Facetime, and Netflix became our best friends. We watched news updates, worried as the number of infections rose and the dead grew, tried to follow the bouncing ball of altered guidelines and new restrictions.

Over the months, as the walls closed in, many people became resentful, questioning our government, our doctors, God. The death toll was, and continues to be, horrendous. I challenge you to tell me you knew no one with the virus, knew of no one that died from it.

Sadly, I know I do.

And, if you truly do not know of a single individual who contracted Covid, let me introduce myself…

Yep, been there, done that. September 3rd, 2020 to be exact. And it sucked. I have underlying conditions and I was convinced I was a goner. Obviously, thankfully, I was wrong. And yes, despite having already had it, I am fully vaccinated.

Oh, I hear the groans out there from the handful of naysayers that resist the science. “It was developed much too quickly!” “I won’t be a guinea pig for the CDC!” “No way! They are putting microchips in there to alter our DNA!”

Yeah, that last one is a doozy. I have no answer for that statement, except to say there must be thousands and thousands of people who are ‘in on it’, judging by the number of countries and universities that participated in the research and joined forces with us to create a vaccine.

Photo credit by Hakan Nural

As for the other sentiments, I can tell you only what I have read. Several sources explain that the vaccine was developed quickly because, quite simply, they weren’t starting from scratch. This virus has similar traits to others, like SARS and Influenza, so they didn’t need to start from square one. There was no need to reinvent the wheel. They studied how it behaved, added a dash of this and a pinch of that, to come up with the best possible recipe to use against it.

That being said, we live in America, land of the free. If we believe that Americans have the right to choose what is best for themselves medically, then we need to respect which side of this debate they fall on. I believe that there is a valid argument for both sides. It’s just that, for me, the more I learn of the vaccine, the more the blocks tilt one way.

Like a wicked game of Jenga.

Going forward, I will continue to wear a mask in heavily concentrated places (think malls or football games) simply because I remain in the high-risk group, despite being vaccinated. That being said, if I do contract it again, being vaccinated should afford me an easier course and quicker recovery. (My lips to God’s ears🙏)

For the rest of you, I wish you good health, a new-found appreciation for your nekkid, mask-less faces, and the peace that comes from knowing we are on the road back to cookouts, shore traffic, and slimmer waistlines.

Maybe not that last one.

Later, gators xxoo

—Q