This post originally ran on the site CrazyMofo.com back in April 2001, under my nom de plume, Beelzebabe. I had to repost it now, in celebration of the 30th anniversary of Ghostbusters' cinematic release. What woman could resist the timeless appeal of the Ghostbusters? They’re manly. They’re packing proton-powered heat. They’re cerebral and sassy. At least one is willing to drill a whole through his own head. (which certainly saves his woman some trouble). Each Buster of Ghosts might just exemplify a different aspect of the perfect male specimen. Dr. Peter Venkman lords it over the ladies with his inexhaustible wealth of sarcastic remarks. Dr. Egon Spengler, the brilliant eccentric, can offer women security and stability... along with an impressive collection of spores, molds and fungus. What girl doesn’t love a collector? Dr. Raymond Stantz is chubby and cute, as well as possessed of an awe-inspiring knowledge of trivia regarding the gods and demigods of ancient Sumeria. And Winston…well, Winston didn’t seem to have many honeys digging his action so, for purposes of this article, he is fairly inconsequential. Ghostbusters, the cinematic masterpiece, is rife with women who love, or at least lust after, our heroes in khaki coveralls. The most prominent is, of course, Dr. Venkman’s reluctant paramour, Dana Barrett. Although she spurned the good doctor’s advances at first, she eventually came to appreciate his smarmy charm. She ditched the nasal-spray addicted violin player post haste and hitched her wagon to the Venkman star. Even Dana’s mom was impressed with Venkman’s celebrity. Her response to Dana’s news that she was dating a Ghostbuster: “Those guys on T.V.?” I would be remiss, however, if I did not also mention Barrett’s short-term corporeal tenant, Zuul. Gozer’s canine minion took possession of Barrett’s body as the apocalypse commenced and immediately sought to get some action. Little did she know she was slated for a tryst with Rick Moranis’ keymaster, Vinz Clortho. Before those star-crossed lovers, Zuul and Vinz, were to meet, however, Zuul threw herself at Dr. Venkman. “Do you want this body?” she growled. “I want you inside me.” Exhibiting much self-restraint in the face of a gauzy red dress and the promise of some animalistic sex (much like one might see on the Discovery Channel), our hero rebuffed the gatekeeper. Result: Venkman revealed his moral fiber; Vinz revealed himself to Zuul, obviously content to accept Dr. Venkman’s castoffs. Then again, who wouldn’t be content to do the horizontal mambo with Sigourney Weaver, pre- or post-Venkman? In any case, although she ultimately hooked up with one of her own kind, Zuul initially fell under the spell of the Ghostbuster mystique, heating up apartment 2206 with her unsatisfied desire. Equally devoted to her own Ghostbuster of choice was Janine Melnitz, the receptionist with red hair and “bug eyes.” (“Janine, sorry about the ‘bug eyes’ thing. I’ll be in my office.”) No doubt she memorized every detail of Egon’s countenance as she gazed at him through her enormous glasses. Although she proclaimed herself “very psychic,” she seemed entirely oblivious to the fact that Egon, the epitome of intelligence and male virtue, expressed no romantic interest whatever in any woman. Perhaps unbeknownst to the audience (and Janine), he was a eunuch. I like to think he was a workaholic whose sex life consisted of a daily, fifteen-minute phone call to a teen-bimbo-cheerleaders phone-sex line. It’s the romantic in me. Janine’s unsuccessful pursuit does not end the saga, however. Many other ladies (both from New York and the nearest convenient parallel dimension) fell prey to the Ghostbusters’ masculine wiles. A newscaster in the movie references the Ghostbusters’ successful bust at a hip nightclub after which the boys in beige hung around to boogie down with some local girls. Many comely clubbers knew what it was to be roasted in the throes of unrequited love that night, I can tell you. And let’s not forget Gozer. That prehistoric bitch broke out her best sparkly body suit for her appointment with New York’s Finer-Than-Finest. She even mistook Ray for a god! Must’ve been his Adonis-like physique. Ultimately, Gozer met a sad though tasty end. She was neither the first nor the last woman to turn into marshmallow mush at the sight of the Ghostbusters. Since 1984, every man I have sought to build a relationship with has been measured against the Ghostbusters... measured and found wanting. Where is my Sumerian trivia wizard? My doctor / game-show host? I have abandoned all hope of finding him. On the upside, at least my refrigerator is demonstrably free of spores, molds or fungus. “The Women Who Love Ghostbusters” was perhaps a misleading title because it implies that obsession with these modern-day heroes is limited to some group smaller than the female population as a whole. The truth is that, whether or not they will admit such an 80’s predilection, all women love Ghostbusters. In that sense, even THIS chick is toast.
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