I notice that when I explain Halloween to younger people, it sounds confusing. “One time a year, child, you can dress up at anything, ring people’s doorbells, and they will smile while chucking showering sprays of candy at you. In many areas, you could do this anywhere. In San Francisco, you have to get a Map of Halloween Houses… or go to the rich areas. Now remember, you don’t get to pick the day, so mark your calendar. Because, child, please note that any other time of year, if you show up at a person’s house with a mask, particularly at these same houses, you will be arrested. This means no candy for you. And lastly, child, when you grow up, you can once again suck the sweetness from others on this particular eve by dressing up as the severely sexed up, short-skirted, cleavage/package enhancing, tight-suited versions of any of the following: Uniformed Professionals (cop, nurse, paramilitary personnel, firefighter, mechanic, etc.), Childhood Book characters (Dorothy, Mermaid, Harry Potter or friend, etc.), or Very Particular Unwritten But Well-Delineated Acceptable Feral and Domesticated Animals (Kitty, Mouse, Rabbit [versus NO Llama, bear, horse, gerbil]). Got it, child?”
So I have whipped up my own recipe for making this bizarre Halloween situation last just a little longer:
1. At least four days prior to the actual holiday, dress up like a burnt out 70s icon, complete with full vodka bottle. Put on mascara and blue eye shadow, then cry and rub your eyes for maximum drippage effect. Don strappy shoes you can twist your ankle in at least twice an hour.
Stumble towards a party on Geary/Polk, where it will be impossible to tell who on the street is in costume. Be questioned by a pirate as to whether you are wearing a costume. Question them back. Begin to question yourself. Open the vodka bottle to sustain you until you arrive at a party in which Captain Impossible (er, I mean Incredible) will greet you at the door with vegan jell-o shots.
2. Having marinated in your own fermented juices overnight, chill in the Fruitvale the next day for the Día de los Muertos festival, which, despite being overtaken by people selling EZLN shirts and mass produced tourist crap from Guatemala, is still a good time. Coat your intestines with all manner of fried hangover food - papusas, tacos, churros, etc, shake, and stir.
3. Two days later, having congealed enough to be determined human, dress up as a non-descript person using only clothing from your actual life and one small wig. Allow students to identify and name you. For example, 'Lola,' 'Sheniqua,''a soccer mom,' 'one of those country singers'. Get told by students that you look better, younger, fitter, prettier, etc. in that hair with those clothes. Make a mental note to feed your self-esteem when you get home before it starves to death.
4. That evening, release into the public one 5 year old boy with sugar comaed eyes and a bloated lizard belly under his iguana head and watch him stagger punchdrunk through Sno-e Valley while his mom Blackberry’s him to all the best candy destinations, biting her lip as she tugs his scaly hand, saying such things as, “OK, Kevlar, I hear the candy is good on Fair Oaks, and after that we should head up to Church and 28th before the block closes and from there…” Note that the name Kevlar on a little blond sprig of a kid induces your Harry-Potter-esque scar to flare up. Now sprinkle hundreds of little Kevlar-and-mom combos all over certain blocks.
5. Finish that evening watching Shaun of the Dead after mixing together different strains of cops. First, plant one actual cop on a motorcycle of every corner near the Castro in order to intimidate folks away from gathering there. Then introduce groups of 4-5 men wearing tight fitting cop uniforms and have them keep approaching the motorcycle cops, saying things like, “Oh honey, I LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOVE your ride. And your biceps are so large. Wanna compare muscles?” Note the frothiness of the motorcycle cops as they grimace behind their glasses in their wonder over whether they get paid enough to be flirted with by fake cops all night.
6. Stir.
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