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Friday, October 26, 2007
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Mapleween
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It's almost Halloween. Holy hell where did the year go?? This time of year initiates the grand introduction to my favorite time of year. Although it's still hot as balls for some twisted and cruel reason. Longitude in proximity to the equator may have a hand in this plot, but that's still under investigation. As the kids dart through the rows of carcinogenic plastic, so begins the intensive search for the perfect costume. A costume which reflects the true spirit and inner self of each child. And with this, so begins the rat race that is the fall and winter season. Madness, mayhem and money...and I guess a little Merriment, melody and martyrdom (definitely martyrdom).
This time of year always makes me reminisce of the days when we cut eye holes in our bed sheets, threw those sheets over our heads and as dull and unemphatically as humanly possible, stood in plain sight and softly say, "boo." to suspecting by passers. The emphasis (or lack thereof) in the "boo" gently reflected the spookiness of the costume itself. As I think back to costumes of yore, I can't help but be inundated with visions of 6 consecutive years of Generic Dracula. Slick back the hair with a gallon of gel, a little lipstick around the face for blood, some dark clothes, and the prerequisite plastic fangs that made you drool like fatty in a donut shop. The latter of those years introduced the vampire cape, adding to an already flawless reflection of the essence that is Dracula. To say it quite lightly...I had that shit DOWN!!!
There were always the "plastic years" when the real deal was the thin as paper plastic mask, which you actually orally ingested as the night wore on. The mask was held on securely by the rejects from the rubber band factory, for once it's on there's no way you can take it off lest the band snap like a brittle twig. Yoda was one of the first plastic mask costumes I wore for Halloween. The heat and moisture created by trying to breathe through slits no wider than the width of a quarter, created a mystical inner mask FUNK. But it was worth it if you could ever get that little pumpkin bucket filled. Of course the little buckets graduated to the medium sided hand-me-out bags you got in school or the grocery store. And then the bags gave way to...THE PILLOWCASE. The mother of all Halloween collection devices. It had it all...height, width, depth, and volume, fortified by the thickest most durable thread available outside of Duluth. If you were able to fill the pillowcase, well....well no one has ever filled a pillowcase. That's just plain crazy.
We all inevitably have the head scratcher years...the "what the hell was I thinking??" costume. Boy did I ever have one of those. I was 4 years old and there were 4 of us between myself, my brother and 2 sisters. We had no dad around, and with only my Mom raising us, money was naturally tight and nonexistent. Time to improvise! There is one picture on this earth of me in this costume with my little sis, and it shall forever remain one of my most cherished.
I am wearing an apron
There is a red bandanna on my head
I have giant hoop earrings in
I'm wearing lipstick
...and...
My face was painted with brown shoe polish, or some sort of brown makeup.
Good God....
...I am....
AUNT JEMIMA.
Now whether my Mom kept a crack pipe somewhere is anyone's guess. I'm thinking its highly unlikely and all but impossible; but my explanation as to why she would decide that her eldest son would be a black woman who adorns a syrup bottle is beyond me. Crack seems to be the only rational explanation. My 4th Halloween on this earth and we make that transition. Plastic Yoda costume at age 3....black face Aunt Jemima at 4. While it would be hilarious at Halloween parties in your 20's (probably getting you shot once the laughs die down upon realizing someone invited Jamaal - the only black guy in the neighborhood), it just doesn't have the same effect in the toddler years.
As for my sis, she too was in black face, a dress, and giant gold earrings. However, her bandanna was blue, therefore eliminating her from the contention of being the ONLY Aunt Jemima costume in southeastern Pennsylvania. And quite possibly the whole northeast. Down south of course Aunt Jemima may have been as commonplace as the white-sheeted ghost. The reason being of course that the white-sheeted ghost is a costume people wear for a whole other reason than hunting for candy. Although the candy is usually brown...and it's stuffed in a bag...oh boy.
So for those of you who plan on getting all decked out for parties this year, or if you're trying to decide what to dress your child as...Jemima baby, Jemima. |
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posted by Boyce
10:03 PM
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