Hello Everyone –
This blog was originally posted on August 4th, 2004. Unfortunately, it’s a true story. Fortuantely, it’s also very funny.
So I'm lying in bed the other night, around 3 AM, wide awake, thinking about all the great things for which I have to be thankful.
In a moment, to my window the left of me, I hear something rustle behind the mini-blinds. I look over, the rustling stops, and I think nothing of it.
A few seconds later, the rustling starts again - and I take a second look.
As I peer back at the blinds, they indeed start to move again. I look closer and, in a second or so, I see something FLY out from behind the blinds.
Is it a bird?
No. It's plain to see.
It's a BAT!
That's right: a BAT!!!
I freak out and leap to my feet with a screechingly loud little-girl scream.
I then search the room for a weapon of defense. I soon realize I have nothing but a bed-sheet to protect me. So I wrap the sheet around my waist and head for the phone.
I dial 911.
I really didn't know what else to do.
So I dial 911."911 Center...?"
"Yes, thank you,” I say. “There is a BAT flying around my apartment. Please help me!"
"Uhm, Sir. I'm sorry. But e don't do bats!"
"What?! How can you not do bats!?"
"I'm sorry, Sir – we just don’t."
The bat now heads for my head. I screech again, and slam the phone down.
I then untie the sheet from my waist and create some kind of elongated, rope-styled weapon. And in a moment, it's only me, now looking like JUNGLE BOY, and the BAT. Mano eh Bato.
The bat is screeching, "Eeech! Eeech! Eeech!"
I'm screeching, "Yikes! Yikes! Yikes!"
The bat’s wings and batty little eyes are flying towards me.
I'm swinging my sheet-rope."Eeech! Eeech! Eeech!"
"Yikes! Yikes! Yikes!"
The battle between JUNGLE BOY and the BAT is on.
I swing at it, and swing at it, and swing at it. And miss.
At one point, my sheet-rope gets caught on the oven door in the kitchen. I pull at the sheet, and from a mere sheer shot of brute super adreniline strength, the oven door comes OFF it's hinges – as I myself then become un-hinged.
The bat continues to attack - and I nervously try to untie my only available weapon - before I'm bitten and transformed into some kind of creature of the night.
I finally free the sheet-rope, and after a few more swings and a lot of YIKES!, I don't see the bat in the air.
I HIT it! It's DOWN.
I look around - and find it's body under the dining room table.
It looks dead - but I somehow feel the need to finish the job. So I run over to my bookcase and find the biggest book I can.
It's ROGER EBERT'S MOVIE VIDEO COMPANION.
I take it from the shelf, throw the sheet over the bat, and start pounding the bat with the book.
This bat has flown it's last fly.
I get some newspaper, fling it in to the trash can, and bring down to the basement dumpster.
I return back upstairs to my apartment.
I look around at the battleground.
The rustled mini-blinds. ROGER EBERTS MOVIE VIDEO COMPANION on the floor.
The oven door off it's hinges.
And I laugh...LOUD... in victory, like I'm some kind of new character combination
between someone on LOST and/or LORD OF THE FLIES.
Then I really laugh…like a normal person.
And a few moments later, I try to go back to sleep. But I can't.
All I can think about was the bat.
Then I thought about how strange it was that, only earlier in the the day, I was reminiscing about how much I used to love DARK SHADOWS. And how I now see a bat on the same day I'm recalling another famous Bat/Man - in the guise of DS's Barnabas Collins (played by the iconic Jonathan Frid).
Just exactly how much power of visualization do we really have?
Couldn't help but think that we have a lot.
Either that, or I just need to learn to keep my windows shut.