Some things don't make any sense to me. Like myself (for instance). I'm a fairly logical person, which is to say that I like things that I can wrap my mind around. Like quantum mechanics (for a ridiculous example). On the other hand, I believe, or maybe just want to believe in things that are significantly less tangible. Like tossing a coin into a wishing well, wishing on the first star, knocking on wood, and, yes, reading my horoscope. I wouldn't say that I put great stock into any of these things and it amuses me that I partake in them at all. Like I said, it doesn't make sense to me. So when my son (8 yrs.) asked me the other day if ghosts are real, I went with a Santa Claus-ish response: I've never seen a ghost, but I believe in them. Why do I believe in them?! I don't get it. Was there a ghost on Fantasy Island or the Love Boat? That would tie this whole thing together nicely if I could blame it on influences from my youth.
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