I’ve never been one for costume parties or dressing up for Halloween . I’m just kind of a wet blanket , I guess . I’m not saying that my particular bag is the best bag to be rattling around in , of course ; but so be it ; it is what it is .
Maybe the problem is that I’ve never had just the right costume . Maybe I gave up on it all , the costume thing , way before I really jumped into that particular sort of escapade with both feet , devised or found a super costume , and gone for it full measure . That could have happened , I suppose , had I given that kind of experience a fighting chance . Coulda maybe .
Maybe my childhood exposure to the wearing- of- costumes gig knocked me off the rails , so far as enjoying dressing in costumes is concerned . There were six of us kids , and on Halloween , on every Halloween , my mother would dress us up as hobos : old wrinkled clothes , baggy pants , “dirt” applied to our faces with a sooty cork my mother had burned with a match . The United States Marine Corps , by the way , could have adopted that burnt cork idea ; maybe it would have saved them tons of money on camouflage expenditures . We kids , the three of us boys , anyway , were always hobos on Halloween . The costume was easy , and it worked to entice the candy into our paper bags .
And , as I write this , I wonder how much the school uniforms that we had to wear at Corpus Christi School influenced my overall attitude with regard to wearing costumes . We wore what were called ‘salt-and-pepper’ polo shirts and brown corduroy pants . Then , in 7th grade , the uniform changed to , as I remember , white or cream-colored buttoned shirts and green corduroy pants . We wore that getup for two years .
Or , maybe it was the clothing of those Sisters of Saint Louis , that Irish group of nuns who taught ( or , at least , did their level best to teach ) me in elementary school , with their Irish brogues and their long black habits . Over their foreheads they wore a wide piece of white cardboard that held the black head -cloth up a couple of inches higher and made them , to me , all that much scarier .
Them was , mostly , the old days with the clothing of Catholic nuns , and those old habits are mostly gone . I’m pretty certain that they are , anyway , although I’m also sure that there are holdouts in some corners of the world who still dress like that . Old habits die hard .
Anyway , those nuns at my elementary were , I realized a lifetime later , nice women who did their best to educate me . I was afraid of them at the time , nevertheless , with their weird clothes and their strange accents , and their occasional use of Gaelic among themselves , and the odd use they made of their huge sleeves to hide items : rulers , pencils , marshmallows , religious item like crucifixes ………….
I’ve decided this Halloween , however , to overcome my past prejudices about costumes . I’ll ask Ada to help me host a Halloween costume party . No one gets in without a costume or a pretty fine and excellent and sincere excuse why not .
The catch is going to be , though , that no store- bought costumes are allowed . I think that’s fair . There will have to be a set of rules , I guess , now that I am thinking of it . No Donald Trumps or Hillarys allowed , for example . Jill Steins , and Gary Johnsons , and Evan McMullins are okay , I guess ; but I don’t really want a ‘famous persons’ party . No Einsteins, Hitlers , Gandhis , or Queen Elizabeths , for example . No Cleopatras or Frank Zappas . No Helena Rubensteins or Chers or Lady Gagas . No Jean Paul Sartres , if you please . You never know what some people might dream up for a costume . There could be some ethical issues , too , or even moral issues to deal with . I’ll have to plan this out a little more before I broach the subject with Ada . Besides , I don’t think that Ada has even begun to plan her Halloween costume yet .
I’ll tell you what . Let’s put the whole costume thing off until next year . That’ll give everyone time to consider all the relevant factors involved .