I’m happy to say I’ve been invited to a Halloween party this year and look forward to scrambling at the last minute to throw together a costume for both me and my wife—just like four years ago when I was last invited to a Halloween party. I don’t get invited to many parties, which surprises me because I find
myself so darned entertaining. I guess most folks don’t have my correct contact information.
Last time I went as a software pirate. I cut up a shirt and a pair of pajama pants to make them look pirate-like, got an eye patch and a couple of other props from the dollar store, then sewed a bunch of CDs and floppy discs to my clothes. Software + pirate, get it? My wife was a deviled egg—a white shirt with a big yellow circle painted on—with horns, a tail and a pitch fork. I like costumes that make people think.
Probably one of the reasons I don’t get invited. I don’t like politically-themed costumes; too
controversial. No kitty-cats either; way too easy. (Although a humongous biker dude in a kitty-cat costume would be pretty funny.)
Store-bought outfits don’t work for me either. I’ll probably end up doing something bloody this year. Gushing head wounds always crack people up. I got an email from a reader asking if Anthem would be celebrating Halloween on Sunday, Oct. 31, or would it be some other day. I’m guessing because Halloween is Sunday—church day for many—the two can’t coexist without some type of apocalypse?
I have to guess because the email didn’t explain. Since I was in a particularly devilish
mood, I explained: Turn to chapter 5.2 of the Halloween bylaws:
When Halloween falls on a Sunday, provided said day is the last day of October and the month has 31 days, all festivities will be celebrated on the previous Tuesday (Oct. 26). Because of this exception,
all trick-or-treaters must (not “shall,”but “must”) wear a brightly-colored elbow patch on their right knee and speak with a Himalayan accent.
Furthermore, church-goers will, on the following Sunday, offer up all Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups
(received on the previous Tuesday) to poor souls who have no peanut butter cups, and must, (not “shall,”but “must”) deposit the chocolatey confections in the collection plate.
Here’s to a happy and safe Halloween for you, and quite possibly a peanut butter cup for me,
when the collection plate passes my way this Sunday.