halloween, etc.
Halloween was kind of funny this year. I think this was the first time since I've worked at Parkdale that it was not snowing for our costumed parade. In fact, it was close to 80 degrees--an all-time record, according to the news.
This year I was a taco. It was an easy, inexpensive, and effective costume. I don't normally--
OK, I'm somewhat impaired as I'm writing this, just so you know. Just in case it's worse than usual.
I don't normally care for Halloween even one whit. It's just kinda there. Not so, to the village of East Aurora. The townsfolk really go all-out on the decorations, far more than they do at Christmas. In fact, I have had a plastic trophy in my possession for AT LEAST five years, maybe more, maybe six or seven or eight, a trophy which I determine every year to place in the mailbox of the house with the most festive Christmas display along with a note saying, "Congratulations! You won the East Aurora light fight, according to me!" But so far nobody has deserved it. If I wanted to give out trophies for Halloween displays, I'd really have my work cut out for me. (Probably the famous animatronic spider on Oakwood Ave would win, but it would be close.)
Anyway, what was I saying? Costumes. If you're an elementary school teacher, you kind of have to do a costume. I don't like dressing up, because cheap costumes are just lame. And I don't know how to make a good one, like the kind you would make with EVA foam and 3D printed parts and show off at a comic-con. But the taco suit was just about right: looked decent, wasn't uncomfortable, and didn't set me back more than two dozen dollars plus sales tax.
We've established my indifference toward Halloween and my martyrdom at being all but contractually required to dress up every year for school. And yet I was still judge-y toward some of my colleagues. You know the type of costume I'm about to describe: the type that isn't a costume at all but just some kind of vaguely specialized clothing you wear in your everyday life. Several teachers were apparently "joggers" or "former high school soccer players." Look, you don't get credit for that. Just show up in your civvies, why don't you. Funnily enough, one year when I was a kid, my dad took me and Mary Kate trick-or-treating. He would've been well within his rights as a dad--especially a conservative Christian one who wrinkled his nose at the very idea of Halloween--to just remain in civilian attire, but for some reason he felt the need to don one of those non-costumes to accompany us around the neighborhood. He put on his tae-kwon-do uniform. What's more, he stood in official Relax Stance at every house we visited. While Mary Kate and I shuffled up to the front porch, our dad remained on the sidewalk, hands behind his back, elbows bent at right angles, hands meeting in a sort of diamond shape over his tailbone. That was how you had to do it at tae-kwon-do. Sometimes, I have no idea why, but a command would be given to "shah, relax." This was a bad pronunciation of the Korean, where the actual word is apparently "ansimhada" (a full three syllables longer). On this command, you were to shift from joonbi, or ready stance, into some kind of weird relaxation stance, as described above. It was like you were trying to show the master that you were taking a small breather yet still fully alert and prepared for ninja attacks.
I haven't taken even a small edible for several months now, which may be why this is all coming out so weird.
So the nice thing about a compulsory costume and forced march around the block on Halloween is that it gets you out of about an hour's worth of instructional time, which feels like a vacation. And like I said, Thursday was like a nice summer day instead of the usual arctic shitstorm. In fact, I guffawed to a couple of acquaintances in the crowd lining the sidewalks that I couldn't believe I was "on the clock," so to speak, walking around in a taco suit on a nice sunny afternoon.
Throughout the day, there were times when it was more convenient to doff my costume, like if I needed to go to the bathroom our go out to lunch. When it was time to get back in costume, I would sing to myself, "Put on your taco suit, da-da-da-da-da..."
In fact this was an unconscious callback to a half-remembered Sesame Street song about dressing for arctic weather. In the original, the line is "put on your kamikluk, to stay warm and dry." It turns out that swapping in "taco suit" works out perfectly. Here, watch and tell me you don't agree.
Thing is, this year I didn't need my taco suit to stay warm and dry. Any other year, yeah, the extra layer would've been helpful.
Another thing about Halloween is that the few songs associated with it are songs I could do without. "Monster Mash," get the hell outta here. "Thriller," you're OK, I guess, but that still doesn't mean I like you. "Ghostbusters," I don't know what to tell you. I've never seen the movie and have no desire to. I have fond memories of Hi-C Ecto Cooler drink, but that's about as far as it goes. Halloween songs must be relegated to the same tier as Easter songs; songs which generally suck and would be better left unplayed. As holiday music goes, it's not even a contest: Christmas comes out way ahead, and even those songs, played too early or too often, can cause you to hate all mankind.
In other news, today I walked all the way to the bottom of Church Street, which is a long way down, but it was pretty fun climbing back up. I actually got halfway (ok, ten percent) out of breath, which is a delicious feeling I rarely get to experience anymore.
Well, that is all I have to say for now. Peace be upon ye.
This year I was a taco. It was an easy, inexpensive, and effective costume. I don't normally--
OK, I'm somewhat impaired as I'm writing this, just so you know. Just in case it's worse than usual.
I don't normally care for Halloween even one whit. It's just kinda there. Not so, to the village of East Aurora. The townsfolk really go all-out on the decorations, far more than they do at Christmas. In fact, I have had a plastic trophy in my possession for AT LEAST five years, maybe more, maybe six or seven or eight, a trophy which I determine every year to place in the mailbox of the house with the most festive Christmas display along with a note saying, "Congratulations! You won the East Aurora light fight, according to me!" But so far nobody has deserved it. If I wanted to give out trophies for Halloween displays, I'd really have my work cut out for me. (Probably the famous animatronic spider on Oakwood Ave would win, but it would be close.)
Anyway, what was I saying? Costumes. If you're an elementary school teacher, you kind of have to do a costume. I don't like dressing up, because cheap costumes are just lame. And I don't know how to make a good one, like the kind you would make with EVA foam and 3D printed parts and show off at a comic-con. But the taco suit was just about right: looked decent, wasn't uncomfortable, and didn't set me back more than two dozen dollars plus sales tax.
We've established my indifference toward Halloween and my martyrdom at being all but contractually required to dress up every year for school. And yet I was still judge-y toward some of my colleagues. You know the type of costume I'm about to describe: the type that isn't a costume at all but just some kind of vaguely specialized clothing you wear in your everyday life. Several teachers were apparently "joggers" or "former high school soccer players." Look, you don't get credit for that. Just show up in your civvies, why don't you. Funnily enough, one year when I was a kid, my dad took me and Mary Kate trick-or-treating. He would've been well within his rights as a dad--especially a conservative Christian one who wrinkled his nose at the very idea of Halloween--to just remain in civilian attire, but for some reason he felt the need to don one of those non-costumes to accompany us around the neighborhood. He put on his tae-kwon-do uniform. What's more, he stood in official Relax Stance at every house we visited. While Mary Kate and I shuffled up to the front porch, our dad remained on the sidewalk, hands behind his back, elbows bent at right angles, hands meeting in a sort of diamond shape over his tailbone. That was how you had to do it at tae-kwon-do. Sometimes, I have no idea why, but a command would be given to "shah, relax." This was a bad pronunciation of the Korean, where the actual word is apparently "ansimhada" (a full three syllables longer). On this command, you were to shift from joonbi, or ready stance, into some kind of weird relaxation stance, as described above. It was like you were trying to show the master that you were taking a small breather yet still fully alert and prepared for ninja attacks.
I haven't taken even a small edible for several months now, which may be why this is all coming out so weird.
So the nice thing about a compulsory costume and forced march around the block on Halloween is that it gets you out of about an hour's worth of instructional time, which feels like a vacation. And like I said, Thursday was like a nice summer day instead of the usual arctic shitstorm. In fact, I guffawed to a couple of acquaintances in the crowd lining the sidewalks that I couldn't believe I was "on the clock," so to speak, walking around in a taco suit on a nice sunny afternoon.
Throughout the day, there were times when it was more convenient to doff my costume, like if I needed to go to the bathroom our go out to lunch. When it was time to get back in costume, I would sing to myself, "Put on your taco suit, da-da-da-da-da..."
In fact this was an unconscious callback to a half-remembered Sesame Street song about dressing for arctic weather. In the original, the line is "put on your kamikluk, to stay warm and dry." It turns out that swapping in "taco suit" works out perfectly. Here, watch and tell me you don't agree.
Click to viewThing is, this year I didn't need my taco suit to stay warm and dry. Any other year, yeah, the extra layer would've been helpful.
Another thing about Halloween is that the few songs associated with it are songs I could do without. "Monster Mash," get the hell outta here. "Thriller," you're OK, I guess, but that still doesn't mean I like you. "Ghostbusters," I don't know what to tell you. I've never seen the movie and have no desire to. I have fond memories of Hi-C Ecto Cooler drink, but that's about as far as it goes. Halloween songs must be relegated to the same tier as Easter songs; songs which generally suck and would be better left unplayed. As holiday music goes, it's not even a contest: Christmas comes out way ahead, and even those songs, played too early or too often, can cause you to hate all mankind.
In other news, today I walked all the way to the bottom of Church Street, which is a long way down, but it was pretty fun climbing back up. I actually got halfway (ok, ten percent) out of breath, which is a delicious feeling I rarely get to experience anymore.
Well, that is all I have to say for now. Peace be upon ye.