Rs, I went to a party Halloween night. All that day I was a big grump about the whole costume thing. I said I'd go as "Guy Who Didn't Have a Costume" or "Computer Programmer" or something else that let me wear jeans and my used blue t-shirt all night. I did a decent job of convincing myself that that would be more fun. Costumes were too much trouble for someone as busy and as important as me. That evening, though, I got to Eisa's house and my attitude changed. She was going as a doctor, which was cool enough, but it required preparation and props I wouldn't be able to acquire in the three or so hours before the party. A succession of creative, impromptu, no-work costume ideas by Eisa and her friends got me pretty excited about Halloween for the first time since I was 9 years old. First was "Lori", a codename we'll use to protect her reputation. She stole a costume idea from her co-worker. I think that's completely within the rules of costume conduct, especially if you've got separate spheres of partying/trick-or-treating. Another of "Lori's" co-workers, by the way, was the guy who actually went home with the ball Steve Bartman deflected away from Moises Alou in Game 6 of the NLCS. "Lori" wore all black, somehow affixed the number 8 to her torso in white, and dispensed fortunes. She was a Magic 8-Ball. Classic. Easy. I can do that, I said, and it sure will be more fun than being costumeless. I started casting about Eisa's apartment for clever Halloween ideas. Next, though, was "Jen"' who came in with a tiara and a wand she'd had from some event a long time ago. She was planning, I think, to go as a slutty princess, but we came up with the idea fo making a sash and going as a beauty queen from somewhere remote. They eventually made her a blue checked sash and wrote "Miss Western Michigan" or something in sparkling paint on it, which went stunningly with the white dress and the beauty pageant wave. Another solid idea. Next up: "Amanda Jonas". She decided to go as a baker, to clip kitchen utensils onto an apron, carray a mixing bowl full of candy, and rap people's knuckles with a wooden spoon. I suggested she spatter flour on her face, and though we never actually did that, it was a big hit costume anyway.
Then there was me. A few bad ideas circulated. Dress in black and be Neo. I called Abe, and he suggested wearing a purple stocking cap, carrying some Dannon, and being a purple-headed yogurt slinger. I wasn't in the mood to be that risque, though. Finally, for some reason, Eisa brought out some curtains she'd had stowed up in her closet. They were filmy and white, and bound to a light wooden curtain rod. She suggested I wear one and be a window, and that was good, but the curtain sort of looked like a sheet, and so I thought...bed! I'll be a bed for Halloween. It was terrific. We used ribbon to hook the curtain to my neck. The curtain rod was perpendicular to my body, about shoulder height. Eisa then used twenty feet of industrial strength tape to strap a pillow to the back of my shoulders, and, lo and behold, I was bed, all tucked in with my head peeking out above the sheet. I was a bit unwieldy; a wooden stick made my shoulders twice as wide as they normally are, and if I turned quickly, I risked de-eyeing someone, but it was worth it. At the party, sadly, I got more quizzical glances than exclamations of "Dude! That's a cool bed!" but that's okay, some people can't deal with my kind of creativity. The first Halloween I didn't sulk for in 15 years was a pretty solid success. And I didn't even spill any beer on Eisa's curtains.
