A Treatise On My Grinchly Attitude Toward Halloween
Friday, October 30, 2009 When I was eight years old, my parents and I went to California and did a tour of Disneyland, Universal Studios, and other amusement park-like facilities. I liked it alright, despite the inherent hurry-up-and-wait atmosphere of crowded funparks blown out by an unrelenting sun, but I found myself feeling particularly haunted by all the people dressed in costumes to look like famous characters. They wandered everywhere we went, apparently seeking companionship among the younger set.
I knew that I was supposed to like them, because I could see other kids my age grabbing onto the puffy legs of animals and royalty, but I wanted absolutely nothing to do with them. It's not simply that I didn't like them, either. I resented their very presence. I was keenly aware of the individuals burrowed inside those stuffed suits, and it seemed a bizarre leap to me to be expected to treat them as though they were the characters the suits represented. Every time somebody pointed out an anthropomorphic duck or mouse, I would only glance at them sideways and hunch my shoulders a little in an attempt to look as disinterested as possible. My efforts had little effect, though. People still kept pointing out the stuffed suits to me day after day.
At Universal Studios, a hulking Frankenstein's monster lurched next to my father.
"Come here," my father said, motioning with his hand while Frankenstein's monster wrapped huge, green gloves around his neck and throttled him.
I would not do it. My father continued to wave me over, my mother implored, but my resolve was unswerving. I would not take one step closer to that monster. I wasn't afraid of him; I simply had no bond with the thing. I did not want it to touch me and then have to pretend like any of it mattered.
I wondered about the person inside the suit. It felt bad to pretend that he wasn't there.
"Next time, just pose and be nice. It's important to your father," my mother said as the monster lurched on to an older couple standing next to a stand of pink hibiscus.
In the cool dark of the rides, I could enjoy the monstrous facade of animatronic reality. I could let it entertain me. No one poked or prodded, no one pushed for reactions that were not mine, no one attempted to shoehorn our experience of the place into as unnatural a shape as the amusement parks' fake rocks and giant mushrooms.
My natural response when faced with social situations based around seemingly unnecessary constructs is to stiffen and avoid. I could find no natural inclination within me that would cause me to want to interact emotionally with a humanoid duck, and that others behaved as though this was expected of me irritated me beyond belief. I longed for the hotel room and the mini-fridge that felt so cool against my feet.
This is all to explain how I am when it comes to Halloween. I hate Halloween. Most costumes look and feel awkward and dangerous and grimy. I am as likely to want to touch you when you're in costume as I am to change a strange kids' diapers, and yet the expectations for our behaviour are such that the script is pretty much written before we even leave our houses. We will appraise everyone's costumes and tell them they look good whether they do or not. We will drink more than usual. There will be someone who skulks around anonymously in a smelly rubber mask, staunchly refusing to surrender their identity. The candy will be terrible and a tiny bit of foil will zing through one of my fillings. I will be irritated by the fact that I cannot interact with half my friends because I cannot properly make out there facial expressions.
The part of my brain that might understand the fun behind facepaint and shopping mall Santas and humanlike dogs eludes me, so harumph. I will have no Halloween candy for the neighbourhood children, and I will not wear a costume tomorrow. I will tell you that I like your costume, though, but that's because I'm kind of insecure and want you to keep liking me even if you freak me out and you look more like zombie roadkill is eating your head than a dead faerie.
Oh, wait. I did have fun one Halloween. Last year, I was standing outside this pub smoking a cigarette by myself, and this drunk guy dressed like a leprechaun wandered up and asked what I was. I looked at my short hair, black turtleneck, wool overcoat, and men's dress shoes reflected in the pub's windows and answered "lesbian spy". I wasn't dressed as a lesbian spy, but pulling that out of the ether was a stroke of genius, because I spent the rest of the night pretending I was under cover, which meant not talking to a lot of people and making no reference to my costume whatsoever. It was awesome.
One round of lesbian-spyness does not make up for the inherent lameness of the day, though. Halloween, an unnecessary attack against my finer social sensibilities that adds insult to injury by being littered with bad costumes and third-rate candy, can officially suck it.
Reader Comments (12)
I'm glad that this year I'm just going to a friend's house to watch indie horror flicks and drink beer (costume free) and then stumble out in the wee hours for diner breakfast.
Mind you, last year was a carnivalesque bacchanalia, which was so much fun I still can't believe it. So I guess it depends on my mood.
You and me both, sister. I hate Hallowe'en. Didn't like it as a kid (I can't trust or like you if I can't see your face) and like it less as an adult. Why on earth do people send their children out in disguises to beg for candy, what the hell is that about?
"Sweetie, never take candy from strangers...except if you're wearing a costume."
This year I'm telling people I'm dressed up as Sinead O'Connor.
Huh. Wow.
...Okay! To each his own! I'm a sugar whore so I'm all for (and always have been) The Free Candy.
i hate halloween, too. for entirely different reasons, but still.
I LOVE Halloween. I just wish I had more time to actually decorate my house and carve pumpkins this year.
I don't mind Halloween for KIDS. It's fun to carve pumpkins and decorate my house in a festive (not scary) way, and I do know most of the children in our neighborhood.
I'm NOT into the gory/weird stuff. Nor do I like to dress up.
But I do LOVE those mini chocolate bars.
Am printing this off for two reasons.
One to explain to my husband why I refuse to take the kids to Disneyland. You are much more articulate than I can manage.
And two, to explain to my husband why I hate Halloween.
Really, I should just hire you to speak to my husband for me. You seem to have a direct line right into my brain except you don't stutter, stammer or curse near as much as myself.
I love Halloween.
But I do not love Disney. Having never been to a Disney theme park (read: traumatized by seeing Goofy's decapitated head at my feet; see below), here is my Disney theme park horror story:
A friend of mine worked at Disney World, where he played Goofy. During the parade they had every day, he stood on a float, waving at the kiddies. Florida, I have been told, is pretty hot and humid. On a particularly hot day, Goofy got sunstroke, and passed out. When he fainted, he fell off the float, and his enormous fibreglass head popped off. It rolled down the street and, when it stopped, it was smiling up at a four-year-old girl. Who began to scream: "Goofy's head came off! Goofy's head came off!"
What was Disney's reaction to this? More breaks for its employees so that they are not stricken by the Florida sun? The liberal provision of water and shade? Why no. No it wasn't. It seems that the parade floats are now equipped with harnesses, so that if anyone should happen to faint, they hang there, suspended, unconscious, until the end of the parade.
"lesbian spy" Damn, I wish I was that quick on my feet! I all over the sugar whore thing, but then again I only buy the good candy and as I have no tricksters I get to eat it all (almost 5 am, actually 6 with the time change, and I'm still up on a sugar high so that tells ya something)but the costume thang..... I've. em, expanded in my old age and they don't make bitch/witch costumes in a size for us busty women
For some reason I missed this post somehow. I love how you question everything and that you make your own opinions about it. I think that growing up the way I did (religiously), I just accept things how they are and don't question it.
You inspire me :)
I like Halloween even though i am not the best person to say it because I am from the country where Halloween does not exist. I could understand your dislike towards hidden faces/expression but I love the idea of dressing weird(not slutty) and painting my face just for the heck of it. Candies meh.