A statement which should be more than just tediously obvious. October 31st should be the culmination of a painfully exciting count-down to complete and awesome childhood anticipation.
Alas, for me it is more the Calendar's thirty-one than the Halloween, and less the excitement than the surprising. How? When did I become so lost, so pre-occupied, so... Old?
This morning, I had no idea it was Halloween. This, is a major wake up call; where are my priorities! How lazy my training had been when once I was a young Trick-or-Treater. I was spoon-fed the signs of the sweet candy-filled future that October's end was waiting to hand out.
Cartoon specials, Themed Ads, random cupcake based events. Arts and crafts in Grade School were the real powerhouse of the season, not only did they give substance to the howliday, but they began the building of expectation.
Forget Halloween? Seriously?! Devastating. If 5th-grade-Me had heard such nonsense from Now-Me, then Then-Me would really only be expected to assume that Me-Me was incorporating clever trickery into a very hideous and disgusting costume; "Old", the scariest of all characters.
After being woken up by not-the-excitement of treats or tricks, but rather a reminder of the work day that awaited, I put on my EngiNerd costume, grabbed my bag, and felt shame as I blasphemed through lack of action in a pure and Halloweenless way.
No costumes at the office, no candy at anyone's desk, no cutting out early to get all geared up. I had a meeting, a sandwich, and a trip to the grocery store. OLD! EFFING OLD is what that is all about. Old and terrible and more OOOOOLLLLLLLDDDDD!
2011's Halloween wasn't always this sad. I had had plans, I had dreamed a dream. Like a truly washed up Halloweener, a Halloweenian has-been, I pub-crawled it on Saturday. True it was epic, and yes our group's costume stole the show (when you and five other creamy-off-white body-suits sport the "Fallopian Swim Team" crest, of course Randoms are going to want to take pictures with you, and of course you are going to be the life of the party, and of course you and your team will be all kinds of awesomeness)... but that's not the point, I had strategized to Peter Pan this holiday and never wear the costume I wore today (just to clarify, I didn't wear a "costume" today, I wore my Life, this is who I am, I am what the kids these days are calling "Boring" or "Stupid Looking", I actually wouldn't know, I'm too Old to know what the kinds are saying - probably still something about how Old is bad though). Ugh, dress pants, a collard
shirt, and a subtle hint of nerd that feels far to natural and everyday Jack to be an act, just disappointing.
The best I could come up with, plan-wise, was to costume-up after work, sit in front of the TV with a bowl of candy, and try and convince She-Jack to marathon through as many Treehouse-of-Horrors epies of the Simpsons that it took to feel something real. Side note, She-Jack is 'Kerry', a real person, a girl in fact, and not my inner female self manifesting herself to shame the He-Jack that seems to have given up on all things fun and worth living for... But even this sad attempt at an All Hallows Eve was thwarted by my grotesque case of adulthood, as only luxurious après-dîner dark chocolate could be found in the pantry and the scariest of 4-letter words had kept me late at the office; Responsibility, you crushing beast of mistress, you vengeful nemesis of all that is good.
And I tried. I tried to save this day. At lunch, I went in search of atmosphere, of spirit - both the literal representation, and the figurative enthusiasm of the word. Nothing. Even the costumes at Occupy Edmonton, the heart and soul of our society, an epicentre of understanding and creativity and passion, were nothing more than confusing. Arguably this rabble of characters have all day everyday to work on their outfits, but like their long-winded, spell-checkless signs, the costumes were predictable and ill-informed. Just because you have a beard, a grey blanket, and you broke off a large branch from a tree in the park you have made scary for non-Halloween related reasons, you are not Gandalf. And if your Gothic-Emo-Never-Washed Monday attire is accented by a Wal-Mart mask, you have not 'dressed-up' you are simply you, but somehow have managed to make your message even less believable. All I wanted was some truth - just one Occupier in a suit (insert frustrated Jack-flalling-of-hands-in-the-air movement and slightly high-pitched whinny Seinfeld-esque voice). That would have sealed the deal and restored the Happy Halloween in my day. If I had walked by and seen one of those Sign Wielding loonies dressed like me, the scariest of oppressor and destroyer of dreams (or whatever tomfoolery their "message" is supposed to be), I would have slow-clapped and maybe even made eye-contact with that clever and confused disturber of the peace. Not to be.
So my day came and went and was all attituded-up with way too much Monday to be the heroic holiday that is Halloween, that is, until my walk home...
After leaving my office and tracking back the downtown blocks towards the adult-only 18-plus condo where more No-Halloween awaited me, my "Children of Men" world found hope in a place that I deserved none from. Rotund to the perfect point where jolly meets jiggly, a 35 year-old man-child appeared from out of nowhere like one of his Dungeons and Dragons moves that I am most likely miss using as a literary device. Yes his strange wizard hat made me grin, his cloak and sorcerer 's staff warmed my Halloween heart, but it wasn't the costume, it wasn't even the hop in his step, it was the jovial twinkle that found its way through his coke-bottle specs, joining his smile, as he gave me a "good evening" nod, acknowledging my building love of Halloweenage.
I nodded back. I nodded, and smiled, and starred with wonder and amazement as he marched by. Yes he was a sorcerer, but as he moved down Jasper Ave, no costume could hide the fact that he was the superhero of all superheroes. Concerned only with the protection of human happiness, he was everything Halloween was meant to be. He had no tricks to pull, or treats to collect, he needed no party, or gathering, or false function to manufacture momentary contentment. This wonderful wizarding warrior was walking right into the heart of No-Fun-Sir! downtown Edmonton, and he was doing it because it was Halloween. This dude had found his way out of the labyrinth that protects him deep in his parents basement, and donning an all-or-nothing bit of fashion Fantasy, he was doing something that is only okay one night of the year; dress up like a wizard and head downtown - beautifully ridiculous.
I loved it. I am so in. It's being planned as we speak.I upped my walk from a amble to a march, maybe even a full on stride - I was motoring, mopey strolling had no place on my Halloween any more. I needed to get to the grocery store, which I did, buy some candy, which I did, go home, find Kerry, eat the candy, and watch Treehouse-of-Horrors - all of it, did! This was the start of my new Halloween Life. I needed to find my way back so I could plan my Weird Wizard Walk for next year (I likely won't be quite as wizardy as my new Halloween idol - maybe a little more Zombie or Supermany, or Zombie Superman).
It's so brilliant, it's like Football without the ball, dessert without dinner, kiwi without the fuzz - just tackling, cakey, green flavourful goodness. I get it now, the tricky-and-treatory was training, to build the muscle memory. The themed parties were practice for the real deal. The arts and the crafts were motivation, learned. What Halloween is all about, truly all about, at its pumpkin-guts core, is far simpler than the silhouette-cats and fake get-everywhere cob-web, simpler than the TV specials and all that Orange-and-Black decor; Halloween, is you, a costume, and the out-side-of-your-parents-basement world. Simple, pure, ridiculous. October 31st is about playing freakshow dress-up, in public, and society saying "yes, this is more acceptable than Occupy Edmonton and their Mountain Equipment Co-op tents in the park".
And notice this, I did not exclude Candy from the formula either, Candy is in. Trick-or-Treating I exclude - if a 35-year-old Dungeons and Dragons Sorcerer Parents'-Basement Dwellers can't pull it off, no one can (with the exception of the 12-and-Unders crowd who obviously are abusing their ability to harness the cuteness). To Trick-or-Treat is only an obstacle anyway, an obstacle in the Candy end game. I'm a grown man-child, I have a job the Occupiers hate, I can buy my own freakin Candy, and I do...So here's the plan, next year, same bat-time, same bat-channel, I am getting my costume on, candying-up, and taking to the streets, with no other goal than to just Be. Cause when it comes down to it, Halloweening is so ridiculous, that not taking advantage of an opportunity like this makes you, yep, wait for it... Old.
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