You know this boogeyman is for real

This morning when I came downstairs, one of Phil's big three-foot stereo speakers was lying face down on the floor. The CapitalOne solicitation that had been on top was scattered on the floor.

It's a large speaker — more than a foot wide, a foot deep, and it comes up to my waist. I imagine that, however it fell (I think Howie is the prime suspect here), it would have made a crash or a whump or something I would have heard since it's more or less directly below the bed I sleep in upstairs.

But I was so caught up in my dream about helping my sister run a haunted house that I guess I didn't hear it.

But it also crossed my mind that our poltergeist, who hasn't really done much spooky stuff lately, decided show that speaker who's boss. And I'm trying to figure out why he would feel the need to do so. You know, if poltergeists are even driven by needs.

And I'm wondering, if Aunt B's hauntings are at the spectral hands of Civil War soldiers, perhaps our haunting is by an old bluesman who is tired of the crappy music we pump through those speakers. But we play blues in those speakers too!

I'm still trying to tie in how the "Oh shit" (read the first link) works with this hypothesis, or why the bluesman would always need to open doors I thought I had closed. We've pretty much debunked the whole ferret-up-on-a-counter thing, so it's good to know the bluesman isn't manipulating my pets. Well, unless he spooked Howie onto the top of the speaker to send it crashing down.