WHAT DO YOU FIND IN THE BOTTOM OF A JACK-O-LANTERN'S LITTER BOX?

So, what exactly is it that I do when I take the day off from work for Halloween? What the hell else?

No, not that... sickos. Nah, I carved my third pumpkin of the last two weeks, baked some pumpkin bread muffins, watched five movies, read some Lovecraft and Poe, checked out a couple of History Channel documentaries on the bloodline of Dracula and the search for fossils that may have inspired the monsters of ancient Greek myths, and cancelled my plans to hit the skeleton rides at Disneyland (there are six of them -- what are they? And California Adventure doesn't count in this...) because my leg pain flared up early this morning. But I just took it as a sign that I should stay home and watch more movies.

[Not that I wanted to ditch everybody at work, especially since we are so busy this week, but... oh, fuck it. I don't give a crap. Every day is "crucial" there, which is the biggest indicator that it is all bullshit -- if you don't give your staff a breather now and then, they won't be breathing anymore. So -- I gave myself a breather...]

Jen had her schedule changed at the last second yesterday, so her closing shift turned to an opening one, which enabled us the opportunity to possibly hit the park for a couple hours. Disney, for completely idiotic reasons as far as I am concerned, closes tonight at 8:00 pm. A park with the fucking Haunted Mansion is closing at 8:00, when every combined Halloween/Disney nut in a five-mile radius is going to want to ride that freakin' ride. Idiots. Of course, the chances of Jen actually getting off at 5 are pretty small. So, thinking that the window for actually standing in incredibly long lines just before an early evening closing to possibly get on only one ride, combined with the leg problem, led me to call Jen and cancel our possible plans. Besides, we were at the park twice in the last two weeks, so it wasn't like it was going to be any different. Plus, we'll probably be there again in a couple weeks.

But this got me thinking about our different approaches to Halloween. For Jen, Halloween really is just one night, and while she does like to dress in costume (and takes great pride in doing so), it is only just another holiday for her. The big holiday for her is Christmas, a day which has grown smaller in importance for me year after year to the point where I sometimes no longer even recognize it. On the other side, Halloween is not just October 31 for me. I start celebrating it the day after my now infamous birthday, and the seven weeks leading up to the Grand Night are filled with endless horror and science-fiction films, book readings, various art projects, and a hell of a lot of writing. Until two years ago, I would spend the bulk of each Halloween (which I took off annually for almost 20 years) goofing around with makeup, planning the evening's costume and running a constant stream of scary flicks in the background, when I wasn't grooving to a lot of music by The Cramps, Man or... Astroman?, The Fleshtones and various other like-minded groups. For the last several years, I would run the box office at the Alaska Theatre of Youth/UAA Theatre for Young People's annual Halloween production, usually written, directed and acted in by a large group of my closest friends.

This all changed when I moved to OrCo (I don't call it by that acronym from that crap TV show). No friends means no parties to attend; no theatre means no Halloween show. I worked on Halloween last year, and that was a horrible mistake, because there is no way that I can concentrate at work when all I have is jack-o'-lanterns dancing maniacally in my head. Even though (or, perhaps, because) I watched two and a half films before I left for work that day, I still could not shake the feeling that I was wasting both my and the company's time with my performance that day. As a result, this year I chose to remove myself from the office for the day, even if it meant shutting myself in and keeping to my lonesome in the dark. It turns out, of course, that this is when I am happiest.

But, also unlike my life in Anchorage, much like the clash of holidays in the Jack Skellington fantasy, I now have to share October 31 with my beloved, who has only a basic regard for the day. All of the Halloween shopping, carving and baking is mine, and I pretty much watch all of the films on my own, as she doesn't enjoy the vast majority of horror and science-fiction films in which I tend to overindulge myself. To that end, I try to do some things where she is involved: going to Disneyland for the Haunted Mansion is one way, checking out carved pumpkin displays is another, and I now have to try and locate films that fulfill both my need for genre fare and her need for a film which she doesn't think is stupid. Last night, for example, we had a good time watching The Lost Skeleton of Cadavra, which I had been pushing at her for about two years to view, and to which she finally acquiesed and found very amusing.

Now, to my big problem: while I am writing this, our door is being besieged by spooks and ghouls, goblins and catgirls of all shapes and size, and all of them adorably cute. Because we planned on not being home, and because we are trying to be good and diet for health reasons, we have no candy. We bought candy last year, but then ended up not being home, and then the giant bowl of it tormented us for weeks. Luckily, Jen is still on her way home, so hopefully she will pick up the emergency rations before I am labeled the curmudgeon of the neighborhood, and also get a lawsuit for false advertising, since I have a porch full of jack o' lanterns, two generic and one in the shape of Godzilla.

I didn't figure this in when I cancelled our evening plans. This will not happen again...

Happy Halloween, boys and ghouls!

[Bonus points will be given if you know the answer to the question in this post's title. Hint: It is from around 1981, and was an answer given by Carnak the Magnificent. If I have to tell you who Carnak is, then you have bigger problems to solve than this one.]