When I saw the kids in the costumes on Trick or Treat night last week, I felt a little envious. Not of the candy because I knew I would dip into my daughter’s stash when she got home. I envied the costumes.
I don’t get much of a chance to celebrate Halloween anymore. We’re really not the “dress up in a couples costume” kind of folks. We do have a party at work, but I just don’t have the energy to go all out for that.
That hasn’t always been the case. I did have some fun costumes at my old job, but once the person who lived to organize Halloween parties got a new job, the excitement kind of wore off.
The reality is that I don’t remember ever really having an outstanding costume. I probably had some cool ones as a kid, but nothing really stands out in my memory.
I do remember going as “The Unknown Comic” to a school event in sixth or seventh grade, but apparently no one else watched “the Gong Show.” I spent the whole night trying to explain why I had a bag on my head and why people should find it so funny.
Maybe that influences my current attitude on Halloween costumes. I wouldn’t mind dressing up, but don’t know if it’s worth the hassle. My favorite idea would take way too much time to explain.
As a freshman in college, I could not wait for Halloween. We had heard about legendary parties at fraternities across campus. I didn’t care that I didn’t have a good idea that fall. I just wanted to have fun.
A few days before the weekend, everything started to unravel. I don’t know how the rumors started, but they spread like wildfire. For a little while, it looked like no one would get to celebrate Halloween on my western Pennsylvania campus in 1986.
I remember the main details – a man dressed as Little Bo Peep was going to show up on a college campus which shared a name with a mountain range, a county and a river and massacre students at a Halloween party.
People reacted in many different ways. Some went home for the weekend. Some put on a brave face. In the end, the parties went on, the rumor turned out to be one recycled from other colleges in the past and people dressed up like normal.
Of course, that included a few smart alecks who actually dressed up as Little Bo Peep. I don’t remember seeing any at the parties I attended, but I did see one running across campus that weekend yelling something about lost sheep.
I never even thought about wearing that costume, but have wanted to ever since. I don’t think I considered it the rest of my college career and would have been too chicken to do it if the idea did cross my mind.
I have the gumption to do it now, but really don’t feel like explaining the whole story every time someone asks me why I chose Little Bo Beep. I don’t even have one of the “I Survived Bo Peep” t-shirts that cropped up on campus that weekend 25 years ago.
So I’ll just drown my sorrows with a Reese’s Cup I snuck out of my daughter’s stash. She can deal – she had an awesome costume.