Halloween – an evening of fright, a night of terror, a myriad of horror and mystery, ridden with taunts of ghastly beings and undying souls and blood-thirsty minions roaming the dark in search of its next victim, just waiting for you to put your guard down and let the spirits have their fun for this one night each year…

I’m going to be honest with you … I don’t really care much for Halloween!

And for the record, it really has nothing to do with the pumpkins or the candy or the costumes (well, most of them anyways). I have many a fond memory of making an utter mess each year carving pumpkins with my parents at the kitchen table, enlisting their help mainly to scoop out “the guts” not so much because I didn’t want to do it, but more so because they always acted like it was so gross. Anyone who’s read my recent columns about dieting and the great fat reduction program of 2006 knows that I’m certainly no stranger to sugary delights and have been known to hit up the day after 75%-off candy sales like somebody who really, really likes candy! And as for the costumes themselves, who doesn’t get a kick out of seeing the little neighbor kids dressed up like pirates or princesses or rich, millionaire humor columnists?

You won’t see that last one too often because aside from Mr. Dave Barry, I’m pretty sure that they don’t actually exist. Just checking to make sure you were still paying attention…

So when it all comes down to it, the real reason that I don’t like Halloween is simply this – I’m a gigantic wuss. I don’t even care who knows anymore – I’m 26 years-old and I pretty much gave up the dream of ever being cool or hip about five years ago when I was one of about four people to actually purchase Invincible, the Michael Jackson “comeback” album back in 2001. All of those snakes and insects that used to intrigue me back in my camp days pretty much give me the heebie jeebies now (it’s a technical term – look it up!). And if there’s one particular type of flick that this movie buff could do without ever watching again in his life, well let’s just say that it isn’t exactly those of the musical variety…

…although that would be a close second…

As far as I’m concerned, you’ve got to question the sanity of anyone who actually likes being scared out of their gourd, whether we’re talking about the Wolfman jumping out from behind a tree while you’re trick or treating or even just watching the Wolfman jump out from behind a tree at someone else while they’re trick or treating on TV – of all the scenes from Hollywood classics that I certainly don’t need repeating in my sweat-filled nightmares halfway ‘til Thanksgiving, pretty much anything creepier than the good, old river of slime from Ghostbusters 2 is a no-go for me. And yes, even that pink nastiness had me steering clear of manhole covers for a good couple of weeks!

So what exactly does a hilarious wuss like me do for the scariest of all holidays that aren’t Rush Limbaugh’s Annual Sausage-Lovers Extravaganza? Well, it all starts with what I like to call my Circle of Solitude, constructed under the theory that if I’m surrounded by no one or nothing of any shape or form, then there’s no chance of my mind warping them into something that could give me the previously-mentioned heebie jeebies. Once inside my circle, I fill my aurora with pure thoughts – mostly clouds and butterflies, to be honest with you – and from there I pretty much just wait. Of course, occasionally I’ll hum a tune of joy here and there to help pass the time and ward off any lingering demons, and before I know it, we’ve safely moved beyond All Hallow’s Eve and into November, where I can instead be frightened by undercooked stuffing and people who refuse to provide adequate Christmas lists.

That’s completely normal, isn’t it?

Yeah, well you just stay outside while I’m safe within my circle, conjuring inner peace instead of the retched and the damned – we’ll see who has nightmares this year! Happy Halloween, indeed…