Year Five: It's A Go
It's Not Just For Breakfast Anymore

Minimalist Halloween

Last night, over half-priced burgers and full-priced beers, Joe said, "I guess we're not getting a pumpkin this year, are we?" And my Emergency Must Rescue Holiday hormones kicked in and I said, "Maybe we could get one on the way home! I could carve it tonight! Maybe I could pick one up tomorrow, or see about ..."

Joe intervened, just in the nick of time.

"Or we could not do anything."

And I realized I didn't really care all that much about carving up a pumpkin for the little kids in cute costumes who stop by early and the big thugs in black hoodies who stop by later. We have the candy; we have a big bowl to put it in. Minimalism, kids, minimalism.

We were actually good about Halloween decor when SonnyeBoy was small. When he was in his Punisher Is God stage I actually carved the Punisher skull into a pumpkin and did a damn good job of it. I know this because one poor tyke in some fanciful getup said, "That pumpkin is scary!"

Joe and I have put a lot of effort into costumery over the years. In college I went to a Halloween party where we were all supposed to come as concepts. One friend came as The God of A Thousand Eyes; the hostess was a calorie. I was taking a stage makeup course (such are the graduation requirements for drama majors), so I created a very lifelike, oozing, bloody gash down one side of my face. My concept? The Tragic Flaw, of course.

One year we went to a party as The Hunchback of Notre Dame and Esmerelda; the short order cook at Tastee Diner recognized us right away. It was, of course, about two o'clock in the morning, so he'd probably already served several French hunchbacks and their erstwhile girlfriends by then. Another year Joe went as The Wolfman -- I glued theatrical hair all over his face and he put on Spock ears to seal the deal.

SonnyeBoy had some great costumes over the years too. He was a Ghostbuster one year, complete with backpack. Another year he was Groucho Marx (that one was my favorite, naturally). He was The Crow for a couple of years -- I got to do the makeup for that one, too. Thank goodness for clown white and black eyebrow pencil!

Now that we're old and cranky, though, we seem to have lost some of our Joie de Halloween. That's okay; I'll still put on my feathered Mardi Gras mask to dispense the Kit-Kats and Reese's cups.

I'm keeping the Snickers for myself.