It's a bird, a plane... No, just a fat guy in a cape

Halloween is upon us and I feel compelled to offer a confession; I’m not a fan. Sorry, I just don’t get it. To further clarify, I don’t get it for adults while kids are a different story. Halloween is for kids. If you are over the age of fourteen and are still compelled to put on a costume, stop! If you are still going door to door begging for candy, seek help.

Yes, I am the Halloween Scrooge. The key difference is that at the end of the story I don’t embrace the faux holiday with joy and vigor. Rather, I gleefully steamroll a mile long stretch of jack-o-lanterns, crappy candy, and regrettable costumes. Please allow me my simple fantasies.

This weekend the usual places will be filled with the usual suspects letting their collective hair down in the most peculiar ways while comfortably cloaked in the belief that they are anonymous. The evening starts innocently enough with a few drinks followed by a slew of pumpkin colored jello-shots and then the evening ends abruptly with the phrase, “Officer, the cuffs are hurting me.”

Luckily, none of my friends throw Halloween costume parties (as far as I am aware).

If you have been suckered or persuaded to attend a Halloween party this weekend you are likely to be swimming in a sea of bad costumes. The adult costumes change from year to year dependent upon the latest movie releases, TV sitcom of the moment, flamboyant musical act, or the current political campaign. Just watch Entertainment Tonight to see a preview of the coming weekend’s parties and bars. Regardless of the year, Halloween costumes tend to fall in to one of the following categories:

Blockbuster movie. Some will gravitate to the hero while some will dress as the villain. Regardless, you won’t be able to swing a treat bucket without hitting one of them. (Remember how many gay pirates filled the bars after the Pirates of Caribbean?) This year we will be treated to an army of Batmans and Jokers. Oh pinch me.

The old standards. The standards include: the witch, Frankenstein’s monster, Dracula, Prisoner, Sherlock Holmes, Clown (high on the creepy factor), and a Ghost among others. There is always some guy who grabs a white sheet, cuts some eyeholes, and calls it a ghost (no freind of Casper to be sure).

The tramp. Wander the bars this weekend and you will find a number of women who are dressed as the sexy nurse, cat woman, or the ever-popular French Maid (dust bunnies not included). Accountants and secretaries whose tedious vocations cause them to daydream about working part-time at the clubs near the airport typically wear these costumes.

The cheapskate. Cheap people never take a holiday from being cheap. There is always someone who dresses in a costume purchased at the checkout counter at the local drugstore chain. This guy will also show-up with a six-pack of a beer brand that you sworn had been discontinued and he will most likely be involved in an embarrassing act with one of your new neighbors.

Far too into it. This category is the most frightening of all. We have all seen the person, or persons – they like to travel in groups – that has been planning and building their costume since last year. These people come early and leave late, which can provide some amusing moments near the bewitching hour. These are typically the same people who dress their dog. You’ve seen them at the local café loudly ordering a soy latte while their sad little mutt gives you the “shoot me now” stare. Tragic.

Political. Did anyone notice that we are in the midst of a campaign? Sorry, I couldn’t resist.

What is that? No Halloween party is complete without the costume that is so poorly executed, or so esoteric that it is recognized solely by its creator. If this is you, slip out of the costume, crawl out the window, and spend the remainder of the evening writing 1,000 times “Halloween is for kids.”

The gruesome. On Halloween those who have a fetish for fake blood, hatchets in the skull, or medical procedures are free to express themselves. Enough said.

If you see me out this weekend I will be cleverly disguised as devotee of a well-poured pint and tasty dram. Just like the other 364 days. Be safe.