I was once the king of Halloween.

 It ended just a few weeks ago so I am finally able to relax at home. 

Another year and all the planning just to avoid having to shell out hundreds of dollars of cavity makers to an army of little costumed porch beggars with nothing better to do than disrupt my quiet evening looking for a sweet handout.

I always have someplace to hide out on October 31st, even if its only sitting in a Walmart parking lot playing my harmonica while relaxing in my Silverado.

Do I have a grudge against All Hollows Eve? You bet!

My disdain for this night has gone back many decades.

My earliest recollection was at my grandmothers house looking at a wall full of ugly rubber masks being told to select one to use as part of a costume.

I recall two things about this mask; it smelled really bad and it covered my entire head igniting my claustrophobia.

It wasn't called a mask, they called it a "Funny Face" and indeed it was not.

At that point I insisted that all future costumes would be "Funny Face Free".

I was quite young, perhaps only 5 or 6 years old at the time, but from then on, and for at least the next 6 years every Halloween was the same; I was a clown. 

Clown white and grease paint is something I could handle.

My mom loved clowns. While in womb she thought her first born should have a paint by numbers picture of a smiling clown over my bed.  Believe it or not I still have this piece of art in the back of a closet.  

Here it is:

In any case I eventually tired of all that makeup and so another costume was created, an organ grinder which i donned for the next two seasons.

Something changed when I was about 13 years old giving me a new found interest in Halloween.

Around the corner lived a young married couple, Lou and Ann Marie who all the kids really liked. We thought of them as the hip couple who could relate to all the kids, they were really cool.

Lou loved Halloween and we shared the same interest in the horror movies of the day, Frankenstein, The Mummy, Dracula and my favorite, The Wolf Man.

Lou showed me one of his magazines, a horror magazine with all the latest monsters and stories that would provide just enough fear that walking home in the dark heightened my imagination that evil lurked around every corner.

Lou saw in one of the issues step by step directions on how to apply realistic makeup, just like the professionals, to create a Wolf Man. Lou planned to do this for the upcoming annual event. 

He would hide in the tree outside his home and jump down just as the trick or treaters would enter his property.

I watched from afar amazed at how well it went; scaring the kids, everyone laughing and having a good time.

I asked Lou if the following year he would make me up as the Wolf Man, he agreed... and the following year he did.

It was so realistic and every home I entered I received so many compliments that I felt like the King of Halloween.

I bragged to all the kids at school the next day.

I was in the 7th grade and invited to my first boy-girl party for the following weekend. It was a costume party.  I had an interest in a particular girl and thought going as the Wolf Man would really impress her.

The problem I had was that Lou was unavailable to do the makeup, the party was Friday night and makeup took time to apply. There was barely enough time to rush home from school and get ready.  

I was determined to do it, after all puppy love was at stake.

Lou provided me with his magazine for the directions so I believed I was all set to go. I had to do it all myself as my mom was busy cooking dinner and taking care of all my brothers and sisters.

I found the leftover materials I needed but noticed there may not be enough. 

There was some greasepaint but just a smattering of hair remaining, plenty of spirit gum to use but I couldn't find the cool fangs I wore. 

I needed a substitute so I improvised and used a set of wax teeth from the candy store. They were somewhat different, no sharp fangs, and they were bucked teeth but they had to make do.

I did what I could, but it was far from the professional application Lou provided. 

Patches of hair all over my face and hands, spirit gum looking like I had cobwebs and sticking to anything I touched. 

Somehow I had buttons attached to my fingers. The buck teeth provided no reassurance.

I arrived at the party looking like a rabid, demented squirrel being ridiculed by my friends, not impressing the girl I had in mind, and wishing I would have gone as an organ grinder, or a clown. I slinked away quickly, my ego bruised.

I swore off Halloween for good getting my annual candy haul from the pillow cases of all my brothers and sisters.

I will say that when my kids were little, and costumed, we did the obligatory offerings as it was the only fair thing to do. 

They were out there retrieving all those Peanut Butter Cups for us to steal from them so I thought the least we should do is  offer Necco Wafers, Candy Corn and nickels to the little porch beggars.

These days not only has the cost of candy skyrocketed, even for the cheap little miniature bars we now have to buy, but our neighborhood is so packed with kids they are even bussed in from other neighborhoods to fill up those pillow cases.

I may once have been the King of Halloween but I now opt out forever.

It's just me and my harmonica, sitting in the Walmart parking lot in my Silverado and an extra hundred or two in my pocket.