Un Hallowed Een


Tonight I am going to a Halloween party. It will also be a Day Of The Dead party. And a birthday party. If we can sandwich in the launching of a dreadnought and a press conference for the local amateur political activist we will fill out the night. Heaven knows we need the dreadnought as much as we need the political pest.

I have deliberated carefully about the costume – my first impulse to dress up as a Naughty Nurse was vetoed by the family. And the Australian Nursing Federation. And the Strippers and Miscellaneous Entertainment Workers Union. People can be incredibly hurtful sometimes…

The second idea – a lurching ooze-dripping monster – also fell under official sanction. They were prepared to put up with the lurching but no-one wanted to see me ooze anything from anywhere.

I have settled on either being Indiana Stein – complete with fake Colt revolver and real bull whip – and wearing the shirt, jacket, and boots I have been saving in the closet for the purpose. They are garments I inherited from my father and are still serviceable.They are about 55 years old and I wear them regularly anyway – we tend to get value from our clothing in the Stein family. This would be in keeping with the Day Of The Dead Man’s Clothing idea…

Or I could go all Clint Eastwoody with a serape, hat, and revolver. The serape is even older – in fact I used to wear it 60 years ago on Halloween when I trick or treated in the streets of Calgary. Not surprisingly, it still fits – blankets with slits down the middle tend to retain their style. All I have to find at the party is a baddie because most of my friends are ugly anyway.

Note: They asked us to bring spooky food or Mexican food. I have cooked up the Chili of Death. We are used to it in our family but wait until the gringos try to walk tomorrow…Hola…



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