Emily Post for Ghosts

Now and again, particularly here in the Halloween season, the veil between This Side and The Other is torn, and the possibility of free conversation between the two opens up.

You don’t want to abuse the privilege, but nor do you want to let a chance go by without having an honest exchange of views, or at least getting some things off your chest.

You know how it is, in the busy workaday world you have a notion or just an observation that you intend to pass along to the next ghostly revenant or long-haired wet-haired girl emerging from a depthless well stalking towards you in the most alarming matter, but the day’s tasks overtake you and before you know it you have lost the thought.

“Now what was I going to tell the next demonic apparition that I saw? Dang!’ is a common thought on these occasions.

It’s worthwhile then to get them down now while they’re front of mind.

To all my friends, be they ghouls, goblins, ghosts, specters, headless-but-still-talking scarecrows, the whole crew really, I’d say first: you come on awfully strong, my friends. Awfully strong. I say this with all the good will in the world.

You are like that neighbor at the autumn block party who wanders over and after the quickest exchange of greetings launches into – you guessed it – his long-standing views on the recent property tax assessments on the homes in the neighborhood, they’re too high or too low, you forget which, and keeps driving home the point for the rest of your time together, and will talk of nothing else.

Well.

A fine fellow no doubt, but there comes a point when you see him coming your way, carrying his pumpkin spiced eggnog in one hand and his small plate of carrot slices and broccoli segments in the other, that you suddenly find something of exceeding interest at the other end of the gathering entirely, and head that way as though just remembering a small chore you had promised to do over there.

There is a certain amount of interest in the whole property tax assessment thing, but it isn’t infinite, and there is distinctly a time and a place for it…and this isn’t it.

In the same manner if as a vengeful spirit everyone knows you best as that guy who soon upon meeting someone new impales, separates from their skin, cuts up into a hearty stew, or for all I know turns inside out as many people as he can work through in an evening, well, this is going to come at a cost socially.

Put yourself in their shoes.

Here you are, gibbering, moaning, or perhaps screeching your way up from the basement, knife or meat-grinder or electric power drill with interchangeable bit sizes in hand, rushing, absolutely rushing into the encounter, taking no time to understand context or to take note of the environment. It gives them no opportunity to know you as a person.

You cannot undo first impressions, just a word to the wise, so instead why not try to stay in the moment and give a little less of your attention to the Curse of the Mandervilles or your particular role in acting out The Beast In The Drywall, or whatever, whatever, and more to the moment itself?

Think of what your mothers taught you when you were young, be that a few years or a few centuries ago, and be that mother of a rather ordinary type, or of a ghastly nature herself, with perhaps an eyeball dangling down and blood dripping from her fangs. Whatever her particular views on child-rearing, I don’t think she’d approve of all this springing and leaping and howling. Do you?

The simple rules of etiquette are your guide here, that’s why they were invented: to see us over those awkward early minutes of interaction while we’re trying to find common ground with our conversational partner.

I know it is tempting to rush past your uncertainties and just eat her, but I don’t see that taking you where you want to go in society.

So, put gently, I would say ixnay on the sudden spring from the darkness, likewise on dragging heavy chains down deserted hallways, I mean what’s up with that, and in general take a chill pill, as the kids say today, on these matters entirely.

Let’s take a mental run-through of a typical situation anyone might find themselves in.

You have been invited to a cocktail party up the street. Splendid! Maybe you’re coming to be accepted in the neighborhood after all.

Now just think about it: wouldn’t you say it would make you stand out, and not in a pleasing way, to lurk around a corner when the hostess trots back to the kitchen to fill up the tray carrying those pigs-in-a-blanket appetizers, and leap out at her with your ghostly visage right in her face?

We were just talking about first impressions, were we not?

The hostess is at a loss, seeing as how she is out cold on the floor with an expression of frozen horror on her face, a set of circumstances which is going to dampen conversational flow and seriously disrupt the good cheer that the party was starting to generate.

A more practiced individual might have handled it differently.

The slow steady approach is much preferred, the outstretched hand – if you have one, otherwise claw, hook, skeletal remains will do – and the open smile, the self-introduction, a bit of chat about what a great time you’re having and you don’t know when you’ve seen such an array of colorful and tasty food, and my we surely do get the weather around these parts don’t we? But you know what? You like the seasons, you don’t know what you would do with yourself if it was the same the year round, you don’t know how these people in Phoenix or San Diego manage…this, I would tell any spectral presence, makes much the better impression. 

The old give and take, the old chit chat. Sure it’s a little surfacey, but what conversation doesn’t start out that way?

Grabbing them by a chunk of hair and dragging them to the nether regions of hell only puts them in a difficult spot and by the bye reveals your own insecurities to anyone who cares to watch.

Common courtesy is always your friend in these circumstances. It will see you over any slight disconnect or awkwardness surrounding the fact that one of you is living, and the other of you is nothing but a ghastly vision with writhing snakes on your head where your hair ought to be. There is always room for discovering common ground!

Entrances and exits from a room, these are so important to the modern ghost, and tasks that all in all are performed poorly on nearly all occasions, spectacularly so in fact. I can’t stress this enough.

There is no need to slink! There is no need to take shape from vapors in the air! There is no need to spin your head full around or to dismember yourself with a kitchen knife!

These are the signs of a non-confident individual, and people pick up on things like this.

Show-offy is the word that comes to mind. Overcompensating is another.

So you are nothing but a revenant, a scrap of ectoplasm that has slipped between a rent in the barrier between Our World and The Next…you have just as much a right to be here as anyone else!

Think understated, think elegant, think the light touch.

Rearing up out from under the bed and biting someone’s head off and then dragging the head by one hand and the body by the other out of the room….no one likes that. It just seems excessive.

Everything is so sudden with supernatural creatures! Many of us prefer a steadier strategy, a ramping up to the occasion.

Transferred to another setting still – like a good teacher, I am providing plenty of real world applications – transferred to another setting still, say the Quarterly Sales Meeting at the office, I for one would have a preference to see something like this on my copy of the agenda as you head to the front of the room:

• Coffee and Danish

• Introductory remarks

• Last quarter’s results, region by region

• Break

• New expense account reporting procedures

• Hideously ghastly haunting or spectral presence demonstration, several eviscerations, multiple deaths by pure terror

• What’s new in HR?

• Marketing and IT, a natural combination

…and so on.

This gives your audience time to prepare and to take in your presentation in a thoughtful manner, and fit it into context. When you just spring it on them, they’re likely to lose a lot of the detail, and what you might call the nuance of what you’re trying to get across.

Should you do a survey directly after your hideous ghastly rampage? Maybe, maybe. Ask the people around the room to fill out a quick survey as to whether or not they still have any insides left? Use your judgment, is all I can say.

I would say finally that I can’t be the only one that finds myself a trifle impatient with the absolutely abrupt nature of most horrific haunted episodes; it’s turning into an issue and best to nip it in the bud before it gets completely out of hand.

You would be surprised at what a more welcoming audience you would find if you slow it down, moderate your manner and speech, and look for common ground.

I urge these steps upon my ghostly friends as the best advice that I can give at this time of the year and I look forward to some progress in these matters.