Commentary By Adam Smith

The North Jefferson News



Halloween ain’t what it used to be.

When I was a kid, Halloween was supposed to scare the crap out of little kids. In those days, Freddy Kreuger and Jason (from “Friday the 13th”) were the kings of scream. Just the sight of a hockey mask or a slasher glove would evoke terror.

I’m sad to say those days are gone, and I feel partially at fault.

I found myself in a Walmart south of Atlanta over the weekend looking at Halloween costumes. Unfortunately, the only thing scary about the Halloween shopping experience was the store itself. (Just to be on the safe side, I would avoid any Walmart stores south of Atlanta.)

However, my fiancee Lensey and I were on our way to a Halloween party in Locust Grove and we were not in festive Halloween attire. I was fine with that, but she felt it would be in poor taste to show up looking like … well, ourselves.

The lawn and garden section at this Walmart had been changed into “The Bootique” for Halloween purposes. After 10 minutes of looking through costumes, I felt justified in my decision to not wear one. Needless to say, the costumes were pretty darn stupid.

Determined to be a good sport about it, I found a costume. It was a giant beer bottle with a hole cut in the middle of it, allowing the costume wearer to stick his or her face through the hole. “What do you think?” said I to my fiancee. “Oh, that’s funny,” said she with a partial roll of the eyes.

She was right. This costume wasn’t funny and promoted the pastime of drinking. While I knew I was going to a shindig where alcoholic beverages might be served, I decided I wasn’t going to promote such sinful behavior through my Halloween attire. No sirree.

So, I put it back and then caught a glimpse at the display at the end of the aisle. For the low price of about $5 per accessory, I could go as Michael Jackson. I figured that might actually be the scariest costume in the store. Nothing should evoke fear in the hearts of children as dressing like an accused child molester with a disfigured face who is also now dead.

Lensey was having an even harder time. All of the female costumes had descriptions like “Sassy Snow White,” “Sexy Maid” or “Skanktastic Butterfly.” That last one might not be exactly accurate, but it’s close.

In the end, we both settled on the clip-on devil accessories for me and the clip-on cat accessories for her. Real scary stuff. Of course, the devil is scary, but does he really have sequined horns and a sequined tail? Methinks not. I also bought a $4 red pitchfork that Lensey threatened to beat me with if I poked her with it one more time.

When we got to the party, the costumes there weren’t any scarier. My friend Nick was a golfer. His wife was a cowgirl. There were two pirates, a construction worker, two more cats, some guy in a gray sweatsuit and Brett Favre.

Nick asked me what I was supposed to be. I replied “a casual devil,” as I looked down and noticed the price tag was still on my pitchfork. Yes, very scary indeed.

However, I was comfortable in my jeans and button-down red shirt. Scary no, relaxed yes. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve found that comfort trumps just about anything.

However, I challenge all parents and kids to not buy into the scare-free Halloween craze. Don’t be a slacker like me. Turn it all the way up to 11 this year. Pile on the fake blood, the potentially dangerous accessories and scare the crap out of someone. Be rewarded with candy and then enjoy the tooth-rotting rewards over the coming days and weeks.

You’ll be glad you did and you’ll probably thank me later. You’re welcome.