A Michael Myers Costume

This weekend, I had another one of those surreal moments where reality and the opposite of reality, let’s call that Hollywood just for convenience, collide. This time, it was more frightening than Donald Trump’s hair and left me with that same uneasy feeling I got when I saw Renee Zellweger’s ‘new look’. It happened at the downtown Halloween extravaganza. To be clear, I think wearing a costume with your kids is totally appropriate adult behavior. In fact, I believe non-child toting adults are perfectly in social bounds wearing a costume to an adult Halloween party, which also just for clarity is meant to imply a party with only adults, not a party with table top dancing.

I do, however, suggest that social norms might prohibit grown people from dressing up and mingling with kids. This behavior alone reeks of stranger danger more than Bob Ross asking you into a van with painted windows and no license plate so he can show you his happy squirrel. When the costume is Michael Myers and you gaze ominously at people through open windows, the creep meter rises by a factor of RuPaul or even Gary Busey. Just to avoid any confusion, I am not talking about Michael Moore, the director. That horror would be too much to bear and there would have been a slacker uprising filled with sickos. Alternatively, it was not a Michael Myers, the actor, costume. That would have been mildly amusing, definitely shagadelic, and potentially worth one million dollars, provided a short bald person was included.

This was the movie character Michael Myers, of Halloween fame, and whoever it was that dressed as that fiend, listen up. I don’t appreciate you imposing on what is left of my sanity. Really? You know I’m making that up. Nobody has any sanity left after Halloween, least of all me. Besides, I kinda liked it.