Bought Yourself Things You Could Not Use

I hate who I have become: the guy who imposes the maximum candy limit on kids when they come up to the door on Halloween. I've become "The Man" in the most negative use of that term.

This year's Halloween costume of choice so far for the kids who have come to the door: the Scream mask circa 1996.
I'm pretty sure that both of the kids I saw wearing it have no idea who Neve Campbell or David Arquette are, and I am sure that is a good thing for their young minds. It was a bit disturbing when one of the Scream kids walked up to the door and I said, "Hey, I've seen you before." Then all of the sudden the kid must have reached down inside of the costume for the secret weapon button because fake-blood began to cascade down out of the pores of the mask. It was a highly unsettling moment to say the least.

Probably my greatest Halloween costume was the year I went as a hobo and affixed coffee grounds to my face in lieu of a beard. I was about 9 at the time so cut me some slack on the paucity of facial hair. I'm not a first-ballot inductee into the Robin Williams Hirsute Hall of Fame, that's for sure.

I really wish that the year that I had dressed as a hobo, I would have done my homework on down and out Vietnam veterans suffering from post traumatic stress syndrome. It would have made things much more interesting when people asked me who I was dressed up as before I received my ration of candy. Some say they have no regrets in life. That was one of my greatest.

Current Reading

The Rise of the Vulcans: The History of Bush's War Cabinet by James Mann