Wednesday, April 08, 2009

Happy Morris Miller Day!!!!!
What ?!?
You don't celebrate MM day?
Truth be told. Neither do I.

Only once did I celebrate it and that over 40 years ago.

The place I grew up on was an old farmstead. The house was built around the 1860's or so I'm told. It was referred to by the old folks as "The old Morris Miller Farm".

So I assume that was the guy who built the house and farm. Since nothing else around the area was named after him I guess he was a good guy (To have his name remembered) but didn't endow a shitload of cash to the local politicos.

Just a guess, but that seems to be the easiest way to get shit named after you.

Anyway, We kids were off school for Easter Break. Yeah, they called it that way back then. My cousin, Patrick had come out to the country to spend some time. I liked Patrick a lot & unlike me, he was a nice kid.

Like a lot of old houses, our house was pretty creaky and not all of the corners were set at 90 degrees and such. Lots of things will get out of plumb after so many years. The foundation and basement walls were these huge rocks, mortared together and It was dark and creepy down there.

In the room I slept in there was a big deep closet. Narrow as hell and at least 7-8 feet deep. A great place to hide from anyone who wasn't a family member.

One of the quirks of the old place settling over the years was there was a small crack between the ceiling and the closet wall.
Which was cool after dark if you happened to leave the closet light on at night. There'd be this faint glow up on the ceiling that you really couldn't tell where it was coming from as the crack wasn't obvious.

Which is what was happening on April the 8th, circa 1966 or so when cousin Patrick was there.

Patrick asked me about that glow and, me being me, I took it and ran with it.
"Morris Miller had been a soldier in the Union Army who left his young wife to go off and fight for President Lincoln............" That's how it started. I was working on the fly and told him how he'd made a sacred vow to come home to his wife no matter what happened.

Frankly, I don't remember quite what I told him. Either he'd gotten killed in one of the big battles on April 8th and his spirit had come home to haunt the place or maybe he'd died in "THIS VERY ROOM!!!"

Didn't matter.

The intended effect was achieved. I slept like a baby that night and Patrick looked like shit in the morning.

Yep. I was a rotten little shit.

But it was a great time for me and as far as I know, Patrick is still telling people about the ghost he saw way back when.

So, Happy Morris Miller Day!!

Gratuitous Picture of the Day -
White Trash Barbie.

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