by Susan Sey
I know it isn't Halloween just yet but it's the Friday before, which means it's officially time to party like the undead.
Now if you're a kid this means the Weekend of Free Candy is upon you. Get out there & shake down the neighborhood, kiddoes!
A word of advice, though? If you can shave, drive a car or appreciate an ironic costume, you're too old to trick or treat. Same goes if you either a) want to go as a Naughty Nurse or b) have what it takes to fill out the costume. Time to move on, 'kay? Hand out candy at home, or get out there & TP the cranky neighbors. (Yes, I know I'm asking for it, but seriously, I'd rather get TP'ed than stare down the six foot tall college freshman at my door wearing a t-shirt that says, "This IS my costume.")
But I don't want to talk about kids & costumes. Today I want to talk about grown ups. Because grown ups have totally co-opted this holiday.
I'm not whining. Certainly not. I love Halloween. I met my husband at his annual Halloween bash. (He used to turn his entire basement into a haunted house every year. Then we had kids who lose sleep over movies like UP--"The talking dogs were BAD!"-- & that nonsense had to end.)
For us these days Halloween is all about dressing up our little princesses & carving smiley faces into pumpkins but one day...
...one day I want to do the Zombie Pub Crawl.
I want to dress up like the undead, parade all over town & drink like my liver really has kicked it. I can't explain this fascination with zombies. I don't normally enjoy dead things, or movies about dead things. Or movies where people make previously alive things dead.
But I thought Shaun of the Dead was one of the funniest movies I'd ever seen.
This shocked the heck out of my husband who, if he wants me to watch a scary movie, has to promise to walk me to the bathroom at any hour of the day or night, and take charge of any household chore which involves going into the basement after dark.
And Zombie Land! Oh! Comic genius! This is a movie in which Woody Harrelson (so often underestimated as an actor) watches a female zombie chowing down on some poor guy and remarks offhandedly, "There's a lady who likes her Manwich."
I cried laughing. I still chuckle every time I walk past the cans of Manwich in the grocery store.
Based on this, I feel confident it would give me no end of enjoyment to get dressed up in raggedy clothes and stagger through the streets of St. Paul in search of brains (by which I mean beer) this weekend.
How about you? What are you doing this weekend to celebrate? Are you celebrating kid- or adult-style? Any traditions? Let hear 'em!