I’ve been reacquainting myself with Ghostbusters lately and I feel I have to admit something: Peter Venkman is my least favorite Ghostbuster.

Now don’t get me wrong. I love all the Ghostbusters, so that means I even love Venkman. Do not doubt this. The thing is, I love the other Ghostbusters so much more. I can make a case for each of the other Ghostbusters to be my favorite*. Ray’s childlike sense of wonder and the enthusiasm and general goodness is immediately endearing. Egon’s unflappable, deadpan nature and near-robotic devotion to his science always makes me laugh. And Winston has got that pragmatic, level-headed everyman thing going that makes him more relatable to someone like me, who loves science but can’t really do it. All three, I love.

Peter though. He’s slimy (And not just post-meeting Slimer). Dana even compares him to a game show host in, what was not meant to be a flattering light. Now, obviously, I am aware that this is the point of the guy. This is what makes him amusing. And I am amused. Bill Murray did it brilliantly and you don’t need me to tell you it. But I don’t connect with the guy. This is all the worse considering that, really, Peter is the star of those movies. There’s an ensemble cast, but really Venkman is the lead. Of all the Ghostbusters, he’s the only one who has a real arc, the other four just dealing with the plot, Venkman’s relationship with Dana is the real meat. It does not hurt the movie, though. I watched Ghostbusters twice this month and it is basically a flawless movie as far as PDR is concerned.

*Note that I am talking Primary Four Ghostbusters here. I am fully aware of the many other Ghostbusters who have found various roles over the course of the expanded universe of cartoons and games. But they’re not what I’m discussing here. This is about the first four.

Speaking of the cartoons, one of my earliest memories is of a morning when I was in primary. I was getting ready to go to school and I was twirling a comb around in my hair trying to replicate the bizarre pompadour they gave Egon in the cartoon. I knew style when I saw it. Perhaps it was my failure to achieve that look that has left me so disillusioned with hairstyling.

Anyway, I guess I just had to get that out. Sometimes one must talk about Ghostbusters.

I’ve received word from my father that Bart has died. Bart is the cockatiel that has been our family pet since a time that none of us can remember. This is him:

We don’t know exactly how old the little guy was, but I expect he was near twenty, possibly just above it. Bart did not have a very exciting life, but that is okay, he hated excitement. Bart was ever terrified of everything around him. The poor guy did not like anything close and would hiss at anything that he didn’t know that got too near (and often things he did know, too). And if anything close to him moved too quickly, it was just straight up panic time! For a bird, he was not a flyer. He almost never ventured further than his own cage (walking on the outside of the cage was his idea of getting out). What did he like? He liked chewing on plastic, being sprayed with water, and chirping. He is my favorite cockatiel.

Thanks for being around, little guy.

Assuming I remain capable of counting correctly, I am currently sporting nearly thirty mosquito bites on my person. I can’t remember having such a mosquito attack ever in my life. As far as my memory goes, most years I average only two or three bites all Summer. What the chunks is with this year?

Haiku!

What’s a ladybird?
That does not look like a bird.
The English are nuts.

Continuing my thoughts on insects, it does seem like when I was a child my experience with insects was more grasshoppers, ladybugs, and butterflies. Now it is more about moths, beg bugs, and fruit flies (thankfully not yet in the form of having bed bugs, but they do affect my life). This is probably simply explained by my moving from suburbs to city and switching from diurnal to nocturnal, but it still creates a sort of dividing wall between my youth and the now that I am finding interesting. I’m sure plenty of other such walls exist that I just haven’t given thoughts to yet.

Anyway, there are constants and they just happen to include my favorites, like ants and bees. Those guys are alright.

Here’s something I’ve been meaning to talk about for a couple months, but keep forgetting: I found a grey hair on my chin. And not just some loose grey hair that happened to land there, either. It’s totally one I’m growing myself. I’m gonna be a big boy soon!

I tried to take a picture, but my camera doesn’t seem to be good enough to get such a fine image. You’ll all just have to trust me when I say that on the left side of my chin there’s a single white strand.

It’s a good thing for me that I already did my obsession with mortality when I was nine, because now I can experience growing slowly more distinguished without the knowledge of my fleeting youth weighing heavily on me. I pity the many who have been convinced by modern society to fight a battle that is literally impossible to win just because putting such a value on youth is helpful in keeping people unhappy, and thus swaying them to purchase what you’re selling. Or something like that.

After all, why would PDR have any desire to more resemble a generation he has no desire to be a part of? Right?

When I was a young man, I created a superhero. His name was Justice-Man. Click below if you want to read a story about him set exactly sixteen years ago:

It’s hard to read old pencil-on-paper scanned onto the computer (though I’ve had the Space Army up for years), but I just feel like Justice-Man is an important PDR creation who deserves to be on the site. Hopefully someday I’ll get a chance to revisit this character.