I got a phone call last week from a lady who said she used to live in a haunted house in Belle. As the story goes, she said she lived in an old grocery store that had been converted into a house — sounds familiar. I used to live in the top floor of a place that was once a gas station and convenience store. Nothing weird about that except the neighbors and the wacky things they’d do when they mixed their illegal meds.

Anyway, she told me of strange goings on, things moving when they weren’t supposed to and an eerie feeling of being watched. I told her it sounds like fun. What’s the address? I’ll be over in a bit! (more…)

It took nearly two pots of coffee to warm up after the Polar Plunge (see post below) and for most of the day I felt like I’d been beaten with a stick. It all faded, of course.

There was something else about the Plunge that I failed to mention. I’d done it before. Sort of. When I was six, I lived in Pulaski, Virginia, at the top of long hill near the local ballpark. As the Bible lady might say, it was a different time and it wasn’t too unusual for a six-year-old to spend an afternoon sled riding with his six-year-old friends with nary a relation or friendly neighbor in sight. My parents were both school teachers, trained professionals in the field of education and child management. They knew exactly what they were doing.

Of course, if I turned a six-year-old out in the middle of winter alone, I’d be sipping cocoa in the regional jail by nightfall. Things are different. Nobody does that any more. (more…)

The intrepid blogger takes the the Polar Plunge on Saturday. View a video of Bill Lynch’s Polar Plunge by clicking here or the polar bear image.

My teeth were chattering and my knees were shaking as I waited in line. The air outside wasn’t so bad, but the concrete deck injected cold through the soles of my feet. I’d only had my shoes off for a couple of minutes, just long enough to take my place in line behind a happy couple who were going to jump together. He had on a pair of oversized trunks. She wore a string bikini and gave more skin to the weather than I was willing to hand over.

One after another, I watched the line ahead dwindlevat Saturday’s Polar Plunge at Appalachian Power Park. A woman behind me laughed and ratcheted up her nerve. “Are we all crazy or what?” (more…)

The Polar plunge is tomorrow. Per the Web site, we all go in the water around 2:30 p.m. Registration begins at 12:30. The space of time in between is to ensure nobody gets a cramp from eating a heavy lunch.

As a thegazz.com special, we’ll be rolling out video over the weekend of my training and footage of the event. So, definitely, you should check back.

And … I want to take this opportunity to thank everyone who helped sponsor me in this event. I’m grateful for the help and for your continuous encouragement (Bill, do you want to die? Bill, it’s too cold. Bill, couldn’t you just get a puppy?) that has made this all possible.

Seriously, everyone has been really great about this and like every other kind of social reinforcement, this only encourages me to do more things of an altruistic nature that are probably hazardous to my health.

There are only a few days left of preparations for the Polar Plunge. Today’s effort to milk this subject even more involves a conversation with John Corbett (no, not him) over at Special Olympics, West Virginia. John, who did not appear on “Northern Exposure” (which ran on CBS from 1990 to 1996), is the chief executive officer for Special Olympics, WV.
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Uncle Bill: So how many people are signed up for this thing on Saturday at Appalachian Power Park?
John: So far, about 40 are signed on. But if it follows like what we had in Morgantown last year, we had 60 sign on and 200 eventually showed up. We’d like to see something like that happen here. Last year in Charleston was our first year with this and we sort of did it at the last minute… (and) didn’t get the word out as well as we’d have liked. We had 32 take the plunge last year. This year is already looking much better. (more…)

Only a few more days until I make that icy plunge into… well, I don’t know… I’m guessing some kind of pool. The Polar Plunge is this Saturday, Jan. 26. Donations to help raise money for the Special Olympics are rolling in, which is good. They do want you to at least raise $50 for the privilege. I was wondering how the Special Olympics would take getting a bad check. I really didn’t need the bad karma, but no worries — I’m not showing up empty handed to the Appalachian Power park for the big plunge.

Meanwhile, I haven’t found the right bathing suit yet. After much deliberation, I have decided against a thong. This is not because I have some sort of grudge against the thong, but wearing one would involve a level of preparation I’m not really emotionally prepared for.

I am training for this. I’m spending extra time in front of the television, trying to work in a nap every couple of hours. Gone also is the low carb, high protein diet with lots of vegetables. No more watching labels. Nope, I’m eating lots of frosted garbage with the hopes of tacking on a layer of new baby fat to help me fend off the cold. Next week, I’ll slip this into reverse and will be kicking the sheets for pans of brownies –but that’s next week. For now, bring on the sour cream!

I’ve decided to broaden and better define the urinal tour. I can’t just be wandering from restroom to restroom with a camera, people. There has to be a bigger idea here. With the movie, music and television award shows all pretty much getting canned (get it? Canned? It’s a joke) because of the writer’s strike, I thought I could help out. People love their award shows. OK, well not really. I could care less who wins a Grammy, an Oscar or a Darwin.

But for those of you out there who love award shows, I thought it would be nice to come up with my own award for Charleston’s urinals. This would totally be a no prize. It’s all bragging rights. Here are a couple of no prize categories I’m kicking around:

Shiniest Urinal.
Most Inhumanly Foul Urinal in Town.
Best Urinal in a Government Building.
Best Urinal in a Women’s Bathroom.
Best Dance Urinal.
Best Urban/Alternative urinal.
Best Contemporary Urinal.
Best Acoustic Urinal.
Best Tribal Urinal.

Feel free to submit your ideas, too… And I’m still trying to come up with an official award title (a Gazzy perhaps?)

It’s official. The Gazette has agreed to let me go ahead and jump into a big, icy pool of water in the middle of winter for The Polar Plunge and blog about the thing. I’m looking forward to this. Not only is it a great chance to raise a little money for the Special Olympics, but it’s the opportunity to increase my chances for frost bite this season. I’ve really gotten behind on that.

The next part is training. How does one prepare to be submerged in frigid waters? Well, diet is probably important. To give myself every possible advantage, I’m putting myself on a strict regimen of high carb, high calorie foods loaded with sugar, fat and preservatives. Like the majestic walrus or the noble boar, I’ll need to bulk up to stay warm.

Movement will need to be conserved to help facilitate the fattening process. This is a problem. College football season is over. I also need to reconsider my daily grooming regimen. Polar bears don’t shave. Why should I? It also may become necessary to coat myself in whale grease, which should protect my skin from the cold air. I also won’t rule out carrying an ulu for the duration. It may come in handy at some point.

More on this whole project as I figure out what I’m doing.

Well, here’s something you don’t see every day -some yahoo dressed up like a rain drop in the middle of winter, but whatever…

The West Virginia Power has partnered up with Special Olympics for the Polar Plunge, which is a good opportunity to freeze your %$#@ off, but for a good cause.

Sounds like a winner and something for me to train for. Check back for details next week, after I ask the boss.

To be fair to all the places to come, I thought I would start with Charleston Newspaper’s very own urinal. There is only one urinal on the second floor, which might be a little odd given that the coffee is free and there are quite a few menfolk working here.

I can only say that it my only seem like there should be more. The need might not be so great. I don’t know the restroom habits of the guys across the hall at the Charleston Daily Mail. The Mail is considered more conservative. They may require a different convenience or very likely prefer to sit.

It looks pretty clean. There’s no graffiti, phone numbers or damage to the porcelain. I did test the handle. It works.