Halloween in the 80s

I am going to say it fast. I hate Halloween. Now you are free to gasp and say "Who hates Halloween?"

Me, as I raise my hand high. I didn't like Halloween as a kid and certainly don't like it as an adult.

No, I don't hate candy. So why, would someone hate a night when you dress up and go around the neighborhood collecting free candy? Of course, I had a traumatic Halloween event when I was a pre-teen that I still can't bring myself to talk about with a bunch of strangers. But my hatred for the holiday started way before then.

I was a child of the 80s. My mom didn't sew. So that meant I had to choose a costume that came in the the plastic box where you could barely see the mask throw the cloudy, dirty window. If you were a child of the 70s or 80s, you are well acquainted with these.

I have vivid memories of my Super Grover costume. Super, it certainly was not. The body of the costume was a plastic smock. My mom would dress me in warm clothes, sometimes a winter coat if it was really cold, and then carefully put my smock over top. I say carefully because the plastic was very delicate. If you walked too fast or tripped and fell to the ground as you were trying to catch up with other kids, you were sure to rip your costume.

And then there was the mask. The mask that had small eye holes and even smaller nose and mouth holes. If it wasn't bitterly cold, you soon began to sweat. You mask quickly filling up with a hot, moist residue. Don't even ask me about the thin elastic, rubber-band-like strap that was stapled to the mask and pinched your hair and easily snapped by the end of the night. If that happened you were happy and sad. Happy that you could finally breathe, but sad since without the mask it was hard to tell who you were dressed as by just the plastic smock you were wearing.

The large plastic orange Halloween pumpkin filled with candy wasn't enough to cheer you up and make the trauma and drama of trick-or-treating worth it.