I don’t remember all of my Halloween costumes. My trick-or-treat years began some time in the early to mid ‘60s, and I retired from door-to-door costumed begging around November 1st of 1972, by then an eighth grader and forced by societal expectations to give up this annual grab for free candy. Stupid societal expectations.
The earliest costume I can remember wearing was my Ben Cooper Superman suit, probably in either ‘65 or ‘66. The costume puzzled me. What was with the eye mask? Superman doesn’t wear a mask! And how come the costume didn’t have red shorts over blue tights, like the Man of Steel wore? Whoever this Ben Cooper guy was, he clearly had no proper eye for detail.
The next year, I was Batman. Of course. My Dad tried to talk me into being The Green Hornet instead, trying to tell me that there’d be tons of Batman wannabes prowling North Syracuse that Halloween night, but The Green Hornet would be unique. I would not be dissuaded; years before Michael Keaton or Christian Bale made it a catchphrase, I was already insisting, “I’M BATMAN!”
The third and final store-bought costume I remember is Birdman, a Hanna-Barbera cartoon hero later subverted into a comedy figure as Harvey Birdman. Hmf. I take my superheroes seriously, thankyouverymuch. And never mind that my Birdman garb was supplemented by a less-than-intimidating pair of cardboard wings I made; criminals may be a superstitious and cowardly lot, but I think my disguise would only strike scornful laughter in their hearts.
I remember three subsequent homemade costumes. One may have just been used for a Cub Scout party rather than actual trick-or-treating. That was my get up as Dworn, the super-weakling from space. I remembered ol’ Dworn from a cherished Superboy 80-Page Giant a few years back, though my look was my own, accomplished with a torn ‘n’ tattered cape and a pretend barbell marked “10 LBS.,” with super-weakling me bent over struggling to carry it. Like Jon Lovitz, I was ACTING…!
I did go out one Halloween as the ghost of Ty Cobb. Yeah, top that, you poseurs. I got an old Detroit Tigers uniform from my Dad, and I added a skull mask to make it special. No one was impressed with my creative ingenuity, but I liked me. The costume for my farewell Halloween rounds in ‘72 was Charlie Chaplin. I was a huge Chaplin fan when I was 12, and I was SO proud of that costume. It was a triumphant end to my career as a trick-or-treater.
Although I was now done with soliciting candy from friends, neighbors, strangers, and assorted riff raff, I still wanted to get dressed up the next couple of years, as I took over the role of handing out the sweet treats to the masked kids knocking at our door. As The Shadow, I accidentally terrified one youngster (who got extra candy as compensation for his trauma), but no one knew what to make of me as Groucho Marx.
(Wait. Come to think of it, no one ever knew what to make of me as myself either.)
My interest in Halloween kinda faded away. As a freshman in college, I went to a costume party as a generic glitter rocker I called Satan Starr, Superstar. As a senior, I slapped together a decent Supergirl costume. I wound up reprising that one for two subsequent Halloweens.
And I only remember three more Halloween costumes, worn to parties hosted by co-workers. In the late ‘80s, I finally took Dad’s suggestion and became The Green Hornet, with lovely wife Brenda poised to kick ass as Kato. There was also a party where Brenda wore my old McDonald’s uniform, and I have no recollection of what I wore. And finally, one Halloween night in the ‘90s, I raided my knickknack drawer for props and tchotchkes to throw together an impromptu disguise as Freelance Generic Batguy (Not Affiliated With DC Comics, A Time-Warner Company). I slay me.
Now, all of my costumes have been permanently relegated to storage. I mean that figuratively; the costumes themselves are long, long gone. I won’t say I outgrew the urge to play dress-up–I’ve never shown any evidence of outgrowing anything–but really, the only thing I miss about Halloweens of the past is all that free candy. I do dig free candy.
I betcha that Ben Cooper still gets free candy, damn him. Even if his Superman doesn’t wear his red shorts on the outside, where they belong.
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Fans of pop music will want to check out Waterloo Sunset–Benefit For This Is Rock ‘n’ Roll Radio, a new pop compilation benefiting SPARK! Syracuse, the home of This Is Rock ‘n’ Roll Radio with Dana & Carl. TIR’N’RR Allstars–Steve Stoeckel, Bruce Gordon, Joel Tinnel, Stacy Carson, Eytan Mirsky, Teresa Cowles, Dan Pavelich, Irene Peña, Keith Klingensmith, and Rich Firestone–offer a fantastic new version of The Kinks’ classic “Waterloo Sunset.” That’s supplemented by eleven more tracks (plus a hidden bonus track), including previously-unreleased gems from The Click Beetles, Eytan Mirsky, Pop Co-Op, Irene Peña, Michael Slawter (covering The Posies), and The Anderson Council (covering XTC), a new remix of “Infinite Soul” by The Grip Weeds, and familiar TIRnRR Fave Raves by Vegas With Randolph, Gretchen’s Wheel, The Armoires, and Pacific Soul Ltd. Oh, and that mystery bonus track? It’s exquisite. You need this. You’re buying it from Futureman.
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Hey, Carl’s writin’ a book! The Greatest Record Ever Made! (Volume 1) will contain 100 essays (and then some) about 100 tracks, plus two bonus instrumentals, each one of ’em THE greatest record ever made. An infinite number of records can each be the greatest record ever made, as long as they take turns. Updated initial information can be seen here: THE GREATEST RECORD EVER MADE! (Volume 1).