Halloween for the ‘Charlie Brown generation’ | Commentary – Public Affairs Office of Headquarters, US Army Combined Arms Support Command and Fort Lee

With Halloween just a week away, many military families will be hurriedly picking through civilian department store and Base Exchange sales racks in the days to come, looking for the perfect trick-or-treating outfit.

Im always amazed by the unbelievable selection of reasonably priced costumes for kids and adults nowadays. Anything goes, from Attila the Hun to Sexy Mr. Rogers, and superhero frocks aplenty. With so much selection, its really not hard to track down the desired duds that will impress friend and candy-distributing homeowners on Oct. 31.

Those of my generation, however, remember it wasnt always this easy.

When I was a kid, well-made costumes were a privilege of the well-to-do. They were not only pricey for our budget-strapped, middle class families, but also hard to find in department stores that, gasp, didnt even have Halloween displays until early October. This left us with two options: the mass-produced boxed sets containing stamped plastic resemblances of a character that sort of looked like Casper, Fred Flinstone or Bugs Bunny, or wait for it the dreadedhomemade costume.

While quite affordable, the option A of my childhood meant purchasing a product of the lowest quality imaginable. Each came with a mask and a sheath that tied in the back. The latter was nothing more than a 100-percent polyester, paper-thin hospital gown. Not only did the kids wearing these outfits look nothing like the characters they longed to portray, they couldnt go near open flames lest they catch fire and melt into puddles of synthetic goo.

The masks had two round holes to see through and a tiny slit at the mouth not quite big enough to allow breath to fully escape, making it a steamy, uncomfortable affair. Made of eggshell-thin plastic, the masks cracked with the slightest pressure, and the thin elastic band that went around the head had a working life of about 20 minutes.

Wearing one of these masks was like shooting craps. While trick-or-treating, you might gingerly lift the mask to take a bite of yourCharleston Chew, and SNAP, the elastic breaks, the plastic cracks, and youre left with no disguise and a huge, red welt on your face for the rest of Halloween night.

Throughout my childhood, I never got to wear a boxed costume. My first-grade-teacher-mother refused to buy them because, according to her, They require no creativity. Instead, we were set adrift to create our own homemade characters from what we could find around the house. For kids of our Charlie Brown generation, a white sheet with two holes cut in it would do the trick. Unfortunately, all of our sheets had daisies or model Ts printed on them.

So, for a few years, I used my grandmothers grey wig as the basis for disguising myself as an old lady. I added a crocheted shawl (not hard to find in the 70s) and little glasses I fashioned from pipe cleaners. Voila! I looked just like Aunt Bea wearing Converse tennis shoes. Other Halloweens, I was politically incorrect before anyone worried about political correctness, dressing as a hobo or an Indian squaw.

With his paper route money, my brother once ordered a Creature of the Black Lagoon mask from a Mad Magazine ad. He felt it alone sufficed as a costume and wore it with jeans and a sweatshirt. Despite the human clothing accompanying his mask, my brothers get up terrified me because I had recently seen the movie. We watched Chiller Theater double-features every Saturday night after The Carol Burnett Show. One Saturday, we saw The Creature from the Black Lagoon (1954) followed by The Torture Chamber of Dr. Sadism (1967). Or was it The Man Who Reclaimed His Head (1934)? Either way, my life was never the same.

Those old horror movies definitely added fear factor to my Halloween experience. My rational side knew the ghouls and zombies in the street were just my brother and his mischievous friends, but my instincts told me they could very well drag me off to a laboratory to be dismembered.

Looking back on those experiences, I now realize it didnt matter whether the costumes were boxed or homemade because trick-or-treating was less about the apparel and more about beingscary. Or, if you were like me, beingscared. And like the Chuckles, Necco Wafers and popcorn balls on Halloween night, there were plenty of each to go around.

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Halloween for the 'Charlie Brown generation' | Commentary - Public Affairs Office of Headquarters, US Army Combined Arms Support Command and Fort Lee