I Guess I'm a Ghostbuster Now - Poem

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Greg Luti’s poem “I Guess I’m a Ghostbuster Now” reflects on the suspicion society places on adult men around children, the disappointment of fallen celebrity idols, and one man’s quiet resolve to be a safe, reassuring presence for kids.

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There is a lot of talk today about kids, and the feeling that kids are when they are with guys of my age.

Adult men.

And let’s not even sugarcoat this, let’s get right into the deep end.

Hold your breath.

There is a stigma that the average single male of a certain age is more likely to be a predator or pedophile.

That man will touch kids, and everyone should be afraid when he is around.

Which they should.

I don’t like pedophiles.

I don’t like predators.

Both are scum of the earth.

But then there are those who are accused, and there is a problem.

No, it is not how the kid is doing today.

But we like the guy who had the accusation.

We like his songs.

We like his movies.

We like his look.

We like the art he gave the world, so when we hear he was a bad person, we all pause and wonder.

Did we miss something?

Was he that good at hiding it?

How could someone be so popular and yet still get away with a crime?

Was there something more going on?

What the hell?

We are disgusted and confused at the same time.

Disgusted by the abuse and manipulation the kids had to deal with.

Kids are young and should be given a chance, not forced by adults to do favors of that nature.

Confused by the exposure of it all.

What went wrong with it?

Because clearly something did.

I, like many, have had conversations of this nature, and there is one part of this I have now taken into consideration.

What if that was me?

What if I were that guy?

I am not, for the record.

And I thought of something,

I would be hurt because the accusation that my character is awful towards kids would hurt me more than anything else.

I deliberately go out of my way not to be viewed in a bad way by kids.

I don’t ever want a kid to feel uncomfortable around me.

I have taught kids and been around them, and not one would ever accuse me of anything like that.

Because I never did anything remotely close to that, which would make anyone question my character.

I now find myself not defending any of the accused, for the simple reason.

It is hard to be that awkward, that sick, that weird around kids.

You have to try to be that way, or be a complete sicko.

Any rational guy would know that he shouldn’t do anything stupid because that means he can be seen in a certain light.

The guys know. We are not stupid.

Some of the younger ladies may not like it if you are too close to them.

Kissing is a no-no.

Hugging is not much more than that.

I mean, we are talking about kids that are not yours.

They are not your children, not your family members.

Why the hell does a grown ass man have to touch or kiss or even be close to a child he does not know?

If you are close to a child, then you are probably doing something with the kid, which means the task at hand should be on your mind, not that other stuff.

There was a list released with celebrities who did bad things.

You know the list.

I thought to myself, if I would be hurt if any of the celebrities I like, would be on it.

At this point in my life, I would not care.

It is not like I know the celebrities.

They are not calling me up to see how I am doing.

If they turn out to be a weirdo or a creep, then screw them.

But I will be honest, there would be a part of me that would be hurt by it.

The 8-year-old Greg.

The kid Greg.

The part of me that was not writing up blog posts, or worried about the next day at work.

The kid in me would be devastated if a few of the celebrities I liked were on that list.

Like the Ghostbusters.

That would hurt me.

The 8-year-old Greg loved those guys.

They were something he needed at the time in his life.

There were the guys who would fight the monsters.

All the scary things in the world, all the fears, the Ghostbusters would say, “Don’t worry, kid. We got you.”

They were not supposed to be the monsters themselves.

The 8-year-old Greg would have been heartbroken to learn that they were bad people.

As for me today, I have grown up and endured enough pain that the idea of a fictional character to aid me in my quest for peace and hope is silly.

I’m not stupid.

They were characters.

It was all a story.

In real life, the Ghostbusters would never come to really save me.

There is another reason I always try to be good around kids, and that is because of my cousin, Paul.

See, growing up, I was always forced to attend family gatherings because that is just how it was.

There were people from all sides of the family, aunts and uncles whom I was being introduced to, and then I had to either talk to them or pretend like I remembered their name.

I had my sisters, but I had already seen them enough. I didn’t need more of them.

There were my parents, but even they wanted me to talk to other people in the family aside from them when we were with the rest of the family.

There were my cousins who were my age, but they were not always there, so I could not always rely on them.

I would then find myself looking for someone to talk to at these events.

Someone to just sit by and be able to chill with.

That was my cousin Paul.

He was about 10-12 years older than me, but he was never better than me.

He was fine with me just sitting there and talking to him about stuff.

When I was unsure of who to speak to, it was my cousin who helped me and made me feel comfortable.

Now that he is no longer with us, I find myself trying to be that way with kids.

Not some great saint, or some great teacher.

Someone they can sit with and be comfortable around.

Because that is all kids really want.

That is what I wanted.

A friend.

Someone who, when you are unsure or even a little afraid, will say to you, “Don’t worry, kid. I got you. It’ll be alright.”

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