By the time this Outtake is posted, I will have participated in my company’s annual Halloween costume contest. My team decided to change our theme from 80’s prom to Death. As I understand things, the Grim Reaper, a vampire-bitten 80’s prom queen, the vampire that bit her, a shotgun toting cowgirl, and the big, bad wolf will make appearances. Dr. Death (that’s me) will hand out lethal prescriptions. It’s all in good fun and gives us a break from the everyday stress of the job.
Saturday evening I’ll park my car on the church parking lot, open the trunk and distribute candy to the children from our congregation and the surrounding neighborhood. The holiday has always been enjoyable. I love seeing the kids in their costumes, and hearing the chant of “Trick or Treat”. I’ll remember my father’s ghost stories, groups of kids going from house to house accepting home-baked cookies and candy apples. We had such a great time. It’s a shame Halloween has taken on more sinister aspects over the years.
While I enjoy Halloween, I find I’m not the biggest fan of horror stories. I had nightmares after reading Edgar Allan Poe’s The Telltale Heart. Stephen King terrifies me. And we’ll not talk about Dean Koontz. I sat through NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD with my face hidden. I consider PSYCHO one of the top horror flicks of all times. It’s scary without being gory. While I try to avoid the genre, I appreciate the talent required to craft a true tale of terror. I marvel at the ability to write scenes that make me toss the book across the room or hide it in a box. I guess I rather have my heart race over a gorgeous guy than a ghoul.
While horror fans drool over the latest terrifying book or movie release, I will tune into tamer fare. Maybe I’ll reach for James Patterson’s Women’s Murder Club series, or watch the campy remake of THE MUMMY. I can get a jolt but forego the nightmare. And now if you will excuse me, IT’S THE GREAT PUMPKIN, CHARLIE BROWN is about to start.