A Halloween Post from 2016

I guess this one is timely being October and all.

Halloween is coming and I dislike the event for a number of reasons. First there’s the word itself. I’ve never been able to spell the bloody word correctly and have vague memories of struggling with the appropriate letters as far back as grade school. For some reason I always thought that an apostrophe was included somewhere and was surprised that my first attempt with the word in this post wasn’t met with a spell check prompt. I still maintain recollections of unease with orange construction paper and an instruction to come up with something artistic to celebrate the stupid fucking day. The first problem was to spell the word, and the second was to craft some sort of an artistic representation of ghouls and gluttony. I remember telling one of my teachers that my refusal to participate in creating an artistic masterpiece was based on the fact that if the day were important enough then we shouldn’t have to go to school at all. The teacher disagreed and I remember having a notation added to my first report card that included an opinion that I wasn’t very good at mandatory participation.

Kind of like Sunday school. I didn’t do very well with that group either, and after a whispered conversation between my mother and the Sunday story teller it was decided that I should attend the adult version of religious instruction. Apparently I was sullen and withdrawn, and if forced to participate then I was a distraction. Fortunately, those two descriptions followed me as I accompanied my mom out of the church basement and upstairs to the wooden benches and the terribly shitty organ music. Bad attitude translated itself to a pew performance unacceptable enough that in short order it was determined I could stay home with my father. That generally meant that I could play hockey or football, which were also group events that for some reason were ignored by the same people who bitched about my Halloween and church attitudes.

On a side note, what the fuck is up with hymns? Even as a kid, I can remember thinking that the organist was just winging it and the congregation was left to find a way to awkwardly stumble through the lyrics for different hymns regardless of the accompanying music. Except for Amazing Grace. The organist had to play something recognizable because everyone knew the tune well enough to tell if she was just arbitrarily pressing keys and foot pedals.

Anyway, Halloween.

I refused to wear a costume to school. Apparently that refusal was also anti-social because everyone else was agreeable to a variety of adornments that included capes and fake facial hair. I like to think that I was expressing my individualism as opposed to conforming to the societal norm. It took fortitude to attend classes in jeans and a sweatshirt when I was the only one besides the Jehovah’s that hadn’t decorated myself. The Witnesses had a religious reason for their non-participation, but I didn’t have a note from God allowing my exclusion from the revelry. I just hated the idea of wearing a costume. On wear a fucking costume day I considered joining the Witnesses in the hallway for the playing of the national anthem and the morning prayer. But I thought that might mean another note home, and I didn’t feel like the statement I’d be making was important enough to explain to my mother that I had consciously decided to ally myself with a cult.

Man, I haven’t thought about the middle school Jehovah’s for a while. I remember them as quietly sad. And pale. I’m not sure why but they always seemed pale to me. I guess it had to have been sun avoidance because it sure as fuck wasn’t from donating blood. Come to think of it, I don’t know why they weren’t more tanned with all the outdoor activity gained from spreading the word of Jehovah. It’s a bit of a mystery because I don’t recall the menfolk costume including hats with their suits.

People wear costumes all the time. We decide what to wear depending on the day and what we intend to do with that day. I see three different approaches to apparel. Functional, fashionable and frivolous. Some clothing designs claim to blend fashion and function.The idea being that the task at hand can be managed and you can still look marvelous. I think the designers are correct but the idea isn’t new to humanity. The human race has long understood that looking good is intimidating. This is an understanding that holds no sexual bias. Admittedly, the female fashion perspective is generally more evolved than their male counterpoints but the boys get it too. Damned near every generation of every male on the entire planet has at some point worn a uniform. Army, Navy, Air Force, Scouts, hockey, soccer or baseball teams. All of them required attention to detail to provide an impression that the wearer is lethally competent and as I said, the men get it. An Armani power suit wrapped around some corporate dick is just the modern equivalent of Armor wrapped around some Tudor dick. Both outfits are designed to function and impress an opponent, or any peon fortunate enough to bear witness to the splendor and wealth of the costume wearer.

To my way of thinking, dress codes alone demonstrate our passion for fashion. We have written rules for fuck sakes.

So, if I dislike being forced on an almost daily basis to don the appropriate costume to work or play, then why the hell would I want to pick a day at the end of October where I consciously decided to wear a clown or pirate suit? Personally, I believe that choosing to wear a costume when it’s not a requirement is crazy.

I was and am amazed that people will dress up in Halloween shit at their workplace. I suppose a clerk at the hotel dressed as Wonder Woman is kind of understandable. She’s meeting the public and projecting an image of group participation that people find appealing and so the Hotel makes more money. But once out of the hotel lobby I couldn’t help but wonder so many non-service industry workers chose to spend a day in their office dressed as a bunny, the batman or a slutty witch.

Unfortunately, people that I like to be around are afflicted with the frivolous costume syndrome. My daughter for example. Her work and social dress code requirements are already lengthy in my opinion. But, she usually begins planning next years Halloween costume in the first week of November. At some point I’m required to have an opinion or fashion a realistic giant sledge hammer as a costume accompaniment, and I honestly don’t understand the appeal of fashioning yourself into an image of a movie character. My daughter and wife are also enablers. Each year they hand out candy and swoon over the costume clad kids, thereby teaching the little whelps that the right costume generates good will and sugar from strangers.

So, if the next generation is already being indoctrinated then I guess I shouldn’t anticipate a timely end to the costume nonsense. Halloween is just a dumb assed excuse to indulge our need to dress up. Weird shit people. Weird shit.

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