Why I Hate Halloween: A Wet Towel's Primer

It's that time of the year again. Yes Christmas music on the radio. Santas on store shelves. Toy manufacturers up their budgets 200% for the newest radio controlled, voice-activated, batteries not included, plush, limited edition, fun for all ages plastic piece of crap . . . wait, this is October, right? How is it that I have heard so much about Christmas and not boo about Thanksgiving which, unless it dropped out of the holiday line to use the crapper and didn't call place holdsies, is the next work-relieving bacchanal?

But this isn't about Christmas or Turkey Day (or tryptophan appreciation day as I like to call it). No this is about Halloween and why I hate it so very, very much. The following points are in no particular order of annoyance. They all erk me equally. Read carefully and add to the list via the comment option if you so desire.

1. Disappointing costumes.
Once upon a time I was a kid. Like many kids I enjoyed Halloween. What kid wouldn't (with the acception of those with early on-set diabetes of course, Mormons, Quakers, etc, and so on). I recall one year, way back in 1986, when I wanted to don my best black head band and be a ninja. I don't recall the circumstances of that year that lead to the following affect but by recess that day there were no less than 2 dozen ninjas who had taken over the wood balance beam section of the Progress South elementary school playground. I felt about as original as a xerox copy of a blank page. Not to mention that my ninja costume lacked the awesomeness of many of the other kids' costumes. Clearly the artists interpretation of ninja for my costume was lacking even a basic understanding of the ninja mythology. It may have been my mother but I can't be sure.

Another time I recall wanting to be a ghost, something my own son desires to be this year. This is an obviously cheap costume to create. White sheet + scissors = ghost costume. But my mother refused this standard method, time-tested and functional as it was. She vetoed the idea citing that I may suffocate under the sheet. I was then made a costume complete with a head hole to provide my living noggin ample breathing space. Of course ghosts did not have living heads, or heads at all for that matter, so I was less than authentic and looked as though my costume was supposed to be nothing more than barber shop patron, a title which, if appearing in a Hollywood movie, would be buried so deep in the credits no one would be left in the theatre to even see it.

2. Creativity is not rewarded as it should be.
Many years after the fabled ghost incident in the late 1980s I took it upon myself to create my own costume. This occurred only because I was talked into dressing up by a friend of mine who was for reasons unknown excited about the holiday. His mother then produced a box full of numerous masks and other Halloween paraphernalia and I began to pick through it. I could not decide between the rainbow afro wig and the executioner mask so I combined them. I called myself the "Afro-cutioner," which I thought was brilliant. No one else agreed and I sulked for the rest of the evening.

An a separate occasion, in college, I was invited to a Halloween party but did not have a costume or the means to purchase one. I decided at the last minute to cut eye holes in a paper bag and, if asked, I would reply that I was Elanor Roosevelt. Again, no one really got it and I went costumeless for the remainder of the evening.

3. Speaking of parties . . .
I was invited again to a Halloween party the following year. This time I went all out and crafted a costume that took hours to complete. I was a dead pimp. People got it. They weren't as amused as I hoped but it was looking pretty good for me that year. But the costume, clothes, makeup, ended up being way too hot and I did not enjoy myself.

4. Academics in a red county are not in to fun
At my last job I dressed for Halloween. I was the only professor who did so. I was Ash from Army of Darkness. It was clever, no, really. After one class that morning I quickly ran to the school bookstore and purchased a shirt and disassembled my costume. I went through the rest of the day pretending that it didn't happen.

5. My own kid: a new era
You'd think I would have a renewed love for the holiday as seen through the eyes of my son. But no. Walking around in the middle of the night, in the cold, dressed as someone I'm not, and asking strangers for candy does not appeal to me.

6. The Simpsons
The annual Treehouse of Horrors is a staple of the season. But over the past seven years or so it has aired after Halloween. Lame.

7. Haunted Houses suck
They are a waste of money. If you want to be scared this holiday season watch the DOW for a day.

8. Pranks
At some point, it isn't always clear when, the pranker becomes the prankee. The "give us candy or die" mentality keeps us at the mercy of the young...those cheeky bastards.

9. Tooth decay

10. The slippery slope
Halloween's arrival signals the all-clear for the Christmas season free fore all that will inevitably consume the remainder of the year...even though it is two months away.

Perhaps that is it but reason enough for me to hate Halloween. I have a co-worker who loves Halloween. We don't get along. My favorite holiday remains the 4th for many of the reasons cited by my own father. You get off of work, you don't have to buy presents, and you can have a good time. All the things Independence should be.

There's a costume contest at work this week. I have been thinking about being a giant emtpy toilet paper roll. But I've been hurt in the past so I guess I'll stay on the sidelines.

Having a kid makes avoiding Halloween impossible for me. I am trapped for years to come. This year the boy wants to be a ghost and you can bet that he won't have to suffer the embarrassment of a barber shop patron head hole.