Halloweaned

As it will doubtlessly not surprise some, I used to love Halloween. Given my penchant for all things dark, macabre and, well, just plain evil, the holiday completely appealed to my nature. Couple that with the trappings of being able to gorge oneself senseless on candy and it became the single most perfect day of the year. And I took it quite seriously, putting a great amount of thought into my costume as a child. I used to frown on kids who went as cowboys or football players. "At least be an undead football player," I'd scold them. The accent was supposed to be on scary. Although, in retrospect, I do find football players to be pretty damn scary, but that's a different story.

My love for the holiday didn't end when I finally stopped going trick-or-treating, though. I actually met my wife at a Halloween party in 1998. And I proposed on Halloween night two years later (and before you ask, yes, I put the ring in a pumpkin.) I envisioned actually getting married on Halloween in keeping with that same theme, but that idea was nixed on the spot (we ended up getting married the following July). Halloween has always held a firm, boney grasp on my heart. Until recently, that is.

I can't quite put my finger on it, but some time in the last decade, Halloween got a little bit over the top. For a start, it went from being a comparatively low-key children's holiday to being a sort of ersatz New Year's Eve. There's always been the Greenwich Village Halloween Parade (personally, I always preferred the Procession of Ghouls uptown at the Cathedral of St. John the Divine), but it seems to now be getting somewhat out of hand. By late August, temporary super-stores and costume warehouses suddenly open up, and people line up around the block to get in. Moreover, the night in question has become less about little children running around dressed like ghosts and more about grown adults running around dressed like Austin Powers and yelling "GROOVY BAY-BAY!" at the top of their drunken lungs at 2 am. Much like the afore-mentioned New Year's Eve, it seems that Halloween gives everyone license to act like a completely uninhibited jackass. Was it always this way??

I can deal with that nonsense, but the one aspect of Halloween that's really started to surprise me is the new accent on gore. Let's get something straight, kids: Horror and Gore are not necessarily synonymous. I am an avowed fan of cinematic horror, but I've never been of the belief that upping the blood'n'guts ante makes a film scarier (most of the time, I'd suggest, it's what you don't see that is the scariest). In any event, Halloween masks and decorations are now more gruesome than ever. Take a look at the picture at the top of this post. This is a plastic display figure that, I presume, you're supposed to decorate your home with on the eve in question. Among a countless slew of similarly revolting objects, this one is called "Tortured Torso" and features a grimacing, bound and blind-folded figure writhing in abject suffering as rats feast on his bruised and distended abdomen! This is currently on display in a street-side store window over on 4th Street (occupying the vacant space once occupied by Tower Video). I've walked by this window several times in the past few weeks with my kids, and my wide-eyed little girl (only three and a half years old) continually asks: "What's he doing?" and/or "Why are those mice on him?". I'm somewhat at a loss as to how to explain it, much less its purpose. Hell, I have an easier time when I walk by the sex toy places on 6th Avenue.

Maybe I've just lost a bit of my insouciant chutzpa and become a big whiney, hypocritical pussy since becoming a Dad or something. But would a little restraint really ruin everyone's Halloween?