What was that?
I’ve never understood the fascination with being scared. I don’t care too much for being scared, but some people absolutely love it. Some people enjoy the scary movies and even treat themselves to a haunted house or two when the calendar strikes October 31, or as we like to call it, Halloween.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a wuss, or at least I would never admit my wholesome wussification to you or anyone else. I’ve faced my share of hairy moments in my lifetime and I would like to think that I’ve handled them with the aplomb of any ole run of the mill closet scaredy-cat.
I can’t tell you when I officially lost my lust for rapidly accelerated heart rates, bug eyes or blood curdling screams, but I’m sure I lost it a very long time ago. I once went to a haunted house when I was kid and I am convinced that my experiences there may have laid the ground work for my less than enthusiastic joy for scary Halloween shenanigans.
For me, there was too much darkness and entirely too much grabbin and yankin by both paying customers and the employees who were stealthily stationed around the maze of darkness.
I’m a grown man now, so popping out of a hidden closet in a dark room and pinching my butt, or any other part of my body is for certain, giving me permission to punch you in throat.
Haunted houses are the one place on earth where you actually fork over your hard-earned cash to have someone scare the beejeezus out of you by almost any means necessary, legal and illegal.
In my humble opinion, haunted houses should only be available to people with no health care coverage, coupled with serious heart conditions. Maybe that is too goulish for some of you, but think about it a minute. Health care premiums might begin to come down. Ok. Ok. I take it back, if you want to pay someone scare you to the point of uncontrolled bowel evacuation, go right ahead. I won’t stop you.
I started to write about the history of Halloween but honestly, when I began my research, I became even more confused, so I let it go. The best I can figure, there was a guy named Samhain that the Christians didn’t care much for because, he was the king of the dead folks. Don’t ask me, I am just the messenger.
I did find out that there was the ritual of “guising” which meant you rubbed ashes on your face so that the dead folks walking among the living folks wouldn’t recognize you unless you bumped into deceased Uncle Bob or dear Aunt Sally, and then you could rub the ashes off your face so that Uncle Bob and Aunt Sally would be able to recognize you. After that, the three of you could hang out, chill by the grill and have a few beers until it was time for them to return to grave. It all makes sense to me.
How we evolved from rubbing ashes on our faces and conversing with dead folks over a cold beer, to dropping candy in a kid’s plastic hollowed out pumpkin head, is still a mystery to me. So, I will have to do some more quality research and since I hate research don’t hold your breath, especially if you have heart issues.
Some of you may say I am just bitter because me and my siblings grew up out in the country, so there was no door to door trick or treating back then. Knocking on the neighbor’s door out in the sticks after dark was a sure way to get yourself in some deep dudu. So we never went trick or treating.
Oh, if you are wondering, I love passing out candy during Halloween, and I absolutely love taking my own kids trick or treating! They won’t let me take them anymore though, they stopped letting me take them out to hustle for some candy nearly 30 years ago now, and I am still upset about it.
Next year, maybe I will tell you about the time I took my youngest daughter out into our neighborhood to trick or treat and I got lost. Not one of my finer dad moments. Or maybe I will tell you a story about how clowns are just down right creepy. I’ll save them for next year.
Anyway, regardless of what trips your trigger; be it paying someone to scare the beejeezus out of you in a strange house or perhaps you are perfectly happy being covered in ashes and just enjoying a hamburger and beer with your deceased relatives, go get it done. Happy Halloween.