Today In The Bathtub ...

Each year it gets harder and harder to come up with a clever or original costume idea for Halloween. Luckily, in a way, my burden for originality has been lessened over the past nearly three years because my current employer does not embrace Hallow's Eve "tomfoolery" ... we're fortunate that we were able to sway the human resources people to let us have a potluck luncheon. And not surprisingly, a number of dishes are themed around the strange and haunted ... last year, one guy brought in a huge peach jello mold in the shape of a brain accented with chunks of celery and shredded carrot. It was disgustingly neat!

But then there's my buddy, Trevor. He has a big Halloween blow-out every year and if you don't make every effort to attend in full regalia, he will make your life a living hell the next 364 days until your shot at costume redemption.

I've done all the traditional get-ups ... pirate, alien, cowboy, and warlock. When I was a kid, my Mom made this really elaborate clown costume for my oldest brother. She made it really big out of these loud fabric remnants and cleverly incorporated a series of ties so that it could be adjusted to almost any sized person. All four of us kids, an uncle, and even a few family friends wore that costume at one time or another. It had its own special garment bag large enough to hold the foam rubber feet, red wig, nose, hat, and assorted "accents" that we collected over the years. I wore it years ago to Trevor's first bash and everyone loved it. In actuality, wearing it for the party made me miss my Mom and I didn't have a very good time. Anyway, the real surprise was that after being in storage for years, the costume was in great shape. I think the thing is indestructible. It has now been passed down to my nieces and nephews.

Just a few years ago, I attended Trevor's soiree as "Waldo" of the "Where's Waldo?" franchise ... a pretty simple and comfortable ensemble. And NO make-up needed! Everyone wanted to know if I was hot in the hat and scarf. Not really well received. Another year, I went as Pete Rose ... full baseball gear and betting slips to hand out ... Trevor looked at me and just rolled his eyes.

The year after that I was Steve Irwin ... khaki "safari" clothes, a goofy longish blond wig, and a stuffed "stingray" carefully stitched to my clothes so it sort of wound around me. It had only been about two months since the zoologist's untimely death ... comments like "too soon!" seemed to follow me at the party and Trevor didn't talk to me for two weeks after that shindig.

October 2007 was the year I sat down, dug deep into my creative soul, and decided to go "conceptual artist" with my first of many esoteric outfits. When Trevor opened his door that year, I greeted him in black jeans, a black turtle neck, and black Chucks. I had went to a craft store and found two bags of stuffed chickens ... 36 in all ... and I basted them to my ebon garments in a way where they could be simply removed by snipping off a few threads. Then I used balsa wood and a plastic head-hugging headband I "borrowed" from my niece to fashion a large letter "U" that I could paint red and dark gray. The swoopy letter sat atop my head like antlers on a mid-century modern stag. "What the hell are you supposed to be?" my buddy asked, a drink in his hand and the beginnings of a look of shame on his face. "A chick magnet," I responded with pride. That particular Halloween, I was anything but!!

The next year I bought some inexpensive board shorts and the ugliest Hawaiian shirt ever manufactured. To this I adhered keys I had pulled from an old computer keyboard. I used Gorilla Glue because that shirt was going in the trash as soon as I got home from the party. At a party outlet store I bought a pack of plastic leis (for around my neck) and one bag of fiberglass "cobwebs" (which I spread all over my body). I put bright blue sunblock on my nose and borrowed the boogie board that my nephew purchased on his family's last trip to Hilton Head. Snazzy flip-flops completed the look. When anyone asked what I was supposed to be, I replied with a trace of irritation "I'm a Web Surfer." One girl who had definitely been imbibing for a good amount of time asked if I had considered giving rehab a shot. I drank heavily in response.

So last year, I thought and thought but nothing coalesced in my brain. I gave up and went on a hunting expedition to the fabric store and bought several yards of discounted pink fur. I had my sister help me build a kind of wide serape or "pocket" that covered me from neck to knees. Tapping into my feminine side, I purchased the largest pink tights I could find and forced them over my legs ... they fit terribly but I just needed the look from the knees down. The night before Trevor's party, I got out the hot glue gun and attached a huge assortment of toy food items I found with the toy kitchens at a department store. Pork chops ... loaves of bread ... little skillets with fried eggs ... bacon strips ... a chicken leg ... a carton of ice cream ... a can labeled "PEAS." The costume got heavier the more things I added ... a miniature ketchup bottle ... some chocolate chip cookies ... a tiny birthday cake ... so I finally had to stop. I must have looked like an idiot shrugging into the furry thing out on the street beside Trevor's apartment building. A stranger answered the door when I knocked and just looked at me with a bit of a challenge. I gave "heys" and "hellos" to a few people I knew but said nothing more. And no one questioned me. Finally I couldn't take the pressure anymore. "I'm an upset stomach," I bellowed. "Get it! GET IT!!" Of course, they didn't.

So Trevor's 2010 bash was last night. I had a good time and everyone liked my costume. It was comfortable and easy to assemble. Unfortunately, the "easy to rinse out" hair dye was proving to be problematic. I have now washed my hair four times and it's still pitch black and a combination of oily- and scary-looking. Luckily it's Sunday, but my littlest nephew wants his wiffleball bat ... my "club" ... back today so he can play with his friends. But I think it's safe to say that "Fred Flintstone" was a hit at the party!!

POINT OF RANT: Yabba ... Dabba ... Never Again!

Today In The Candy Aisle ...

I don't want to sound like a tired old man, but I might just skip Halloween this year. I retrieved my box of decorations ... cobwebs and a pumpkin carving kit and a mechanical spider that shrieks and a mummy's arm that crawls across surfaces and a super-cool Frankenstein head candy dish ... but it all looks tattered and just plain silly. I might still put out some pumpkins and gourds and Indian corn, but I may pass on "Beggars' Night" ... just go to a movie or be elsewhere. Especially since buying candy to feed the masses has gotten to be so expensive.

I'm also in a new apartment this year and really don't know how many kids are in the area. I don't want to buy too little candy and run out and look like a douche to all the little gkosts and goblins, but I also don't want to buy too much cause I'll just devour it myself then. And I have a cat now ... she could get loose and terrorize the neighborhood with her loud purring and back feet-only claws. And my steps are steep and narrow. No, this would be an ideal time to break the cycle ... buck the tradition. And I can blame it on the cat and the apartment, I thought ... insert evil laugh here.

But then I remember when I was a kid and how magical Halloween was. The air always chilled and crisp. The streets choked with laughing kids in costumes ranging from original to store-bought silly. And the candy ... oh, the mounds and mounds of candy. Pop Rockz, Mallo Cups, Razzles, chocolate "pirate" coins, BlowPops, candy corn, Nerds, ReeseSticks, Gobstoppers, M&Ms ... all the sugar a little boy could dream of. And then up the street there was this really nice guy who transformed his lawn into an eerie graveyard and he dressed up like a very convincing Grim Reaper. Until I was a bit older, I could never deal with the man when he said "hi" when I walked past, or if I was out riding my bike and he was in his yard and asked how my parents were. All I could see was his face covered in grizzly make-up and the sickle up the sleeve of his tattered black robe while he did his best to talk in a low, menacing voice. GOOSEBUMPS! DAMN!!

When I was very little, my parents also helped out with a neighborhood "haunted barn," after which the families would have a big bonfire with hotdogs, big crockpots of potato soup and chili, and toasted marshmellows and caramel apples. And us kids would swap candy so I could corner the market on Razzles. Every year, my Mom usually dressed like a suburban witch and my Dad like a ship-less pirate.

After my mother died, I was one of two siblings still living at home while I finished college. We lived in the "busy" ... code word for rundown and packed with people ... section of town. Our Mom loved decorating for Halloween and really enjoyed seeing all the kids and parents while she handed out candy, so my older brother and I decided we'd keep her zest for trick or treat alive if Dad would foot the bill. That first year he was still in a daze ... he just handed us cash and told us to do the best we could.

Well, my brother and me got serious about the event ... organized. We decided we would use inexpensive sandwich bags and create Halloween "treat kits" so all those germy little hands wouldn't be touching all the candy we secretly hoped to inherit as "leftovers." Each bag had one "miniature" candy bar, a packet of candy corn, a packet of Skittles, four or five flavored Tootsie Rolls, and a jawbreaker that looked like a faceted gemstone. We also found several bags of little glow-in-the-dark rats and spiders and tried to put a few in every bag. We started the "assembly line" about three days before Halloween ... Dad had to get more candy twice. "Christ, boys," he said, "we're not supplying candy to the whole state!" We reminded him that, as just barely young adults, we knew the kind of onslaught that was just around the corner. I think he was just happy to see us excited about something.

Halloween was on a Thursday night that year. We had the porch light blazing, Mom's Frankenstein bowl,... the one I now possess ... filled with bags, and the rest within easy reach. Just shy of 350 little princesses, police officers, mummies, vampires, Power Rangers, ghosts, wizards, dinosaurs, black cats, Pooh characters, and more made the trek up our four big stone steps to add to their bounty of confections. We had about a dozen bags left which disappeared quickly ... the craziness and frenetic energy of the evening demanded a sugar fix!

But now ... in the present ... did I really want to go to that kind of trouble? Besides, I had a potluck at work to worry about too. We always go a little crazy with food on the holidays, and Halloween was no exception. One year, I made those pumpkin rolls with decadent cream cheese frosting. I always add a bit of extra cinnamon and nutmeg into the pumpkin batter and a touch of lime zest to the filling ... a nice fresh twist. And another year I made a thick root vegetable stew that you actually cook and serve in a hollowed out pumpkin. That stuff was killer ... garlic and oregano and cumin accenting the flavors of squash, potatoes, leeks, parsnips, onion, fennel, and eggplant. There had not been enough left of that to even bother bringing home.

This year I was making "deviled eyes" ... basically deviled eggs, but you tint the filling (I chose green and brown), add a black olive for the "pupil," and draw a few bloodshot accents with a red icing pen. As a dry run, I made a dozen and took them to my landlord to sample. She thought they were wonderful and appreciated how I had added sage and celery seed to the fluffy filling. Now, my landlord is a wonderful lady who is also an outstanding cook. She suggested I switch the brown hue for blue ... I agreed it would be much more appealing ... and that I dribble some spicy cocktail sauce on the eyes instead of using the squiggly and too-sweet icing accent. "And maybe give the two different colors slightly different tastes," she cooed as she popped a second egg in her mouth, replacing the Saran wrap over the small serving plate and promising to save the rest for later on when her husband got home.

Well, I had a while until Halloween actually occurred, but i decided to make a grocery list for all the ingredients I would require for my eerie appetizers. Maybe I could pick up a bag of party-size 3 Musketeers bars ... or maybe two ... just in case friends with kids stop by, I thought as I added it to the list. And it wouldn't hurt to have a bowl of candy corn on hand. And some of those gummy eyeballs I saw last week ... those are so cool! And I wonder if they still make "pixie sticks?"

Oh, hell, I laughed inwardly, I better get some sandwich bags just in case!

POINT OF RANT: Like a vampire, old habits will always come back and bite you in the ass ... and the wallet!