Paradise for the Dead...

It felt wonderful last night to take a bit of time and explore the history of my new city of residence, San Diego. From an outsider's perspective there is quite a big absence of historical buildings in most neighborhoods here. Like most cities in the United States, the old haunts of past citizens are often lost to what is new and thriving in the present day. But all history is not lost to San Diegans. Scattered around the town and suburbs are little hints of the past... and possibly a few ghosts.

The sad part about this little southwestern paradise is its haunted legends. Don't get me wrong; some nationally famous ghost stories can be found between the canyons and the coast. Yet as is often the case, it's the same stories told and retold. People travel to Whaley House or Hotel del Coronado to stir up a few spirits. We fall in the trap of believing that history is limited to what we know and that with which we are familiar. Yet every place has hundreds--no, thousands--of years or past events buried below the grass and sand. A neighborhood may have been settled within the past century, yet even 100 years of life can provide fascinating stories.

I am once more digging up the bizarre past and interesting ghost stories forgotten by the mass media. And perhaps a few might make it into a sequel of Queer Hauntings (if I find the time and energy to tackle it). A former cemetery turned into a park, an old suspension bridge with perhaps a specter roaming the planks, haunted businesses and inns are but a few of the stories just beginning to be told here on the West Coast. My efforts at finding these new, undiscovered spots have just begun. At this point, the future of my life on the opposite end of the country is uncertain, as is the amount of time I shall stay. But as long as I'm in this new place, there are ghosts to find, stories to tell, and a wealth of past history to share with the world.

The Art of Toilet Paper Diplomacy...

Anyone who has moved to a new location can tell you that it's far from an easy transition. It has almost been one full month since I boarded Amtrak and was carried away to begin a new life chapter on the Pacific coast. I had to hit the ground running, so to speak, and I'm glad. Otherwise I would have had too much time to absorb the immensity of the situation. Life, work, and the daily monotony has eaten away most of my time. Only the past few days have afforded me the time to allow my emotions to catch up. I might be in a new "paradise" of sorts, yet stress and depression still rear their ugly heads.

I'm 2500 miles away from anything familiar. That in itself wreaks havoc with my mind. I miss friendships and acquaintances and the support system that comes with such relationships. I'm starting from scratch and it's not all that easy. My new living environment comes with its own set of challenges as well. We're a motley group of different ages and diverse lifestyles. It's a temporary Golden Girls house with tensions abound. New rules, new people, new everything. Two days ago there was no toilet paper left and someone was grumbling to me about who should have a turn buying it to make things fair. To diffuse the situation and avoid further squabbles (and discomfort) I walked down the hill to the 7-Eleven and bought some rolls. Honestly, it's just paper... isn't it? There's no need to create another World War over tissue.

I realize my living arrangement is temporary. It's stressful enough not knowing where I'll be in another month or two without letting petty grievances ignite into brushfires. Stubbornness isn't always necessary. We're all stressed enough without adding drama to the equation. In a lot of ways, I miss the simplicity of my life as I once knew it. It was dull at times and far from ideal but I knew what was coming at me. Here there is only one reliable thing: the weather. Almost every single day has been sunny and hot. Such a wonderful atmosphere. Why muck it up with unnecessary gloominess?

Overall, I am happy I came here. I truly enjoy San Diego. It's unlike any other city I've experienced. Canyons carve deep trenches weaving their way to the ocean, separating out neighborhoods. Humankind further dissects the region with a complex system of freeways meandering in various directions. Everywhere you go there are differing varieties of palm trees and tropical plants. Lizards climb fences and walls darting out of view in their pursuit of insects. It's windy and gorgeous. And the ocean... well, it certainly doesn't smell like rotten fish like Lake Erie. Salt spray mixes with marine life in a scent that's pleasant and difficult to sum up in words.

So, this is my temporary home. A little spot of heaven with reality trying to edge its way in to break the spell. My temporary work will be ending soon. I'm desperately seeking out any means of income I can find while trying to figure out where I'll be living at the end of the month. Paradise doesn't come cheap and the price of living is often higher than you would expect. Still, do I think it was a bad decision on my part? Definitely not. For once, I gave a valiant effort to jumping off the proverbial cliff and seeing if I can fly. I've taken chances that most people would be too terrified to dream. I'm gliding through the air in free-fall and enjoying the view. But in the back of my mind there's that nagging voice; "I sure hope the parachute opens when I pull the cord."

Some people are terrified of ghosts and haunted places. Others are afraid of crawling things and flying insects. They never bother to realize that there is one thing more frightening than any creature, living or not. And that's life. Living is the scariest thing on earth. It's uncertain, unpredictable, and ongoing. There is no escape. You can't run and hide. Whether you like it or not, you're on this roller coaster to the end. Don't let life paralyze you with fear. Accept the adventure for what it is and learn all that you can. Take risks. Jump. Fly. The more time you spend learning about the world around you and where you fit into the puzzle the less scary everything will be.

At New Journey's End... Or Is It Just Beginning...

It's been one whole month. How is that possible? It seems like just a week ago I was preparing for another life adventure. Slowly, people approached me, wanting to know the details of my "to-be-announced" changes and destination. Next thing I knew, I was there and trying to adjust to a new life in a new environment. And now, I have a day off and enough energy to fill you readers in on my life as it all changed.

Most people have known for years I haven't been very happy in Ohio. I never hid that fact. And after my adventurous 2009 it was a challenge to return to the mundane world in which I lived. I needed something new in a place where I could broaden my horizons. And an offer was tossed in my direction... so (not wanting to be a hypocrite and tell people to live life to its fullest yet myself stay in a safe nowhere land) I decided to jump... and worry about the water in the pool afterward.

After an insane few weeks of packing, cleaning, deciding what to do and what to bring, etc. I boarded Amtrak in Cleveland in the wee hours of April 16th. At 7:15 AM on April 18th (after an interesting journey with amusing fellow passengers) I found myself alone at Union Station in downtown Los Angeles, California waiting for a ride from the man would soon become one of my roommates. It was surreal stepping out into the summer-like weather, seeing Bird of Paradise blooming beneath palms and the buildings stretching out before me. From there it was a long car ride to my first shower in days at my new residence in San Diego, California. While it's temporary, the city may or may not be... depending on so many factors.

For the past two weeks I've been learning my new whereabouts. The adjustment to southern California was far easier than I had expected. Aside from a few moments of missing so many people I left back home, it's been a pleasant experience. Of course, there are the occasional glitches and annoyances as is customary in any place in the world. But it's a learning experience. No huge leap is a cake walk. And no adventure comes without some rough moments.

I've talked to wonderful people, made a couple friends through work and exploration, and seen beautiful places worthy of a few photographs. And best of all, I stood outside Villa Montezuma (one of the places I wrote about in Queer Hauntings) and for the first time had a chance to see with my own eyes the very place I had researched so many months ago. There are more haunted spots to see, explore, and learn about yet my time isn't all free. But eventually, I will be posting more here as I find the spooks and gay haunts of my temporary (?) Pacific Coast home.

That being said, I am alive and (reasonably) well. Lonely at times, impoverished always, but well. And all the while doing my best to keep in high spirits... perhaps even literally.

Bound for the Great Unknown...

Nothing ever stays the same. Change is something we all seem to crave yet fear nevertheless. And fear is the greatest obstacle for life. It keeps most people from deviating away from a typical safe life. More terrifying than any ghost in the room is what could await from changing course and delving into the unknown of life.

I have always made it a point to tell people that life is a journey, something we all should experience and make interesting. Over the past few months I've been caught between the safety of known mundane life and taking a chance on new opportunities. I had to stop myself from weighing both sides and ask, "What would I tell someone else to do? Which is worse: taking chances or always wondering what the outcome could have been?" I finally relented. And it has taken me a while to find the best way to break the news to everyone. It's a difficult time for me full of new possibilities but not without a few tearful goodbyes and letting go of all things familiar.

In a few weeks, I am going on a journey. It's not merely a "finding my way through life and plotting my course" sort of inner spiritual trip through life. There is very real and tangible travel involved. Simply put, I've decided to make a valiant attempt at living in a new place with new social circles and a different climate. For many people this might come as a shock, but to most who know me it's an inevitable thing. I need something different in my life, something that can't come about from a walk down the road or trip to downtown Cleveland. Most of the past five years have lacked adventure and challenge. Last year, I took huge leaps from my comfort zone... and once you start to see what's outside your little world it's impossible to return. "You can never go home again."

Have no fear. I am not abandoning my blog. And I'm not abandoning the paranormal. Quite the contrary: I'm planning more write-ups on haunted places in the next few months and actual visits (possibly with video tours) of interesting spooky places once I'm settled in. This includes a stop at a historic-home-turned-museum written about in my book, Queer Hauntings. As I explore my new surroundings (and the creepy side of new cities), I'll be sharing my experiences and point-of-view with all of you. This is my ultimate "grand experiment" in radical life overhaul. But it's something I need to do. Even if I fail miserably and end up back in northeast Ohio at some point during the summer, at least I'll have tried my best at making my own life something more that I want it to be.

You'll have to stay tuned to find out the exact details of my adventure. A lot of very difficult decisions have been made in plotting out the course of my life over the next few months. Not everything is set in stone, but the basic framework is there. For now, I'm tearing through my belongings and getting down to basics. I'm packing the must-have items and boxing the second most important things for later, in case I need them shipped to where I'll be. A couple of weeks from now I'll be boarding an Amtrak train at this very early hour and heading off to new horizons, following what was once a trail blazed by some of the earliest pioneers in the United States doing just as I am: pursuing a new life with new possibilities. First stop, Chicago. Final destination... well, for now I'll just say "all points west."

"Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness, and many of our people need it sorely on these accounts. Broad, wholesome, charitable views of men and things cannot be acquired by vegetating in one little corner of the earth all one's lifetime."

- Mark Twain, Innocents Abroad

Closeted Beyond Belief...

Some people make a living forming declarative statements without holding back fear of ridicule or offensiveness. But even such individuals can struggle with telling everything. And this weekend, a well-known skeptic and disbeliever in all things supernatural who built a career on being blunt made one of the biggest leaps of his life. It came in the form of two words, written in a post on his blog.

"I'm gay."

It was a major leap for 81-year-old James Randi, best known for his "Million-Dollar Challenge" offering a hefty prize to anyone proving parapsychological phenomena. He has written various books on psychic fraud and paranormal hoaxes and helped found the Committee for the Scientific Investigation of Claims of the Paranormal (CSICOP). For some, he's a hero. To paranormal enthusiasts, he's a naysayer. Yet no matter what your stance is on ghosts might be, he is now a brave man. After watching the film Milk and realizing the shift in climate and attitude toward sexuality, Randi broke his 70-year silence.

I applaud Randi for his public announcement. While we may disagree on various points and hold differing views on a variety of topics (and agree on many points at the same time), what he did took a lot of courage. When you're in the public eye making such a simple statement about who you are as a human being can be the biggest challenge in your life. You face ridicule and the possibility of losing disapproving individuals in your life. The world suddenly views you not for who you are but who you love.

Whether you're a skeptic or a paranormal investigator, admitting who you are and saying those two words is the ultimate example of speaking the truth. But it's up to the individual to make such a statement on however public a scale. Some people believe the more visible and famous you are the more important it is to come out of the closet. I personally understand the reservations that come with these things and while I may not be thrilled when someone decides to keep their private life private I can respect his or her reasoning. It's a sad truth that most people decide to keep quiet as not to face the small-mindedness of society which could destroy life as they know it. Like a haunted house, people fear the unknown and that with which they are not familiar. Rumors and misinformation are accepted as fact. Stereotypes are taken to be reality. Fact and fiction blur.

So now, the skeptic community has James Randi and Derren Brown. But who do we have in the paranormal community? Well, Ian Shillito makes one. Where are the others? Where are the big-name paranormal celebrities in the North America? Does the predominance of straight, white, Christian males on ghost hunting programs make coming out too terrifying? Quite possibly. Hopefully, that too will change. As Harvey Milk said in his final audio recording, "If a bullet should enter my brain, let the bullet destroy every closet door..."