He-Man

When I was a kid I became He-Man.

At least that was my goal. When I was seven-years-old I decided to go as He-Man for Halloween. I would’ve liked to achieve this by hoisting my Power Sword into the sky and bellowing out “BY THE POWER OF GRAYSKULL! I HAVE THE POWER!!!!” but that wasn’t an option. So it was off to G.L. Perry for some costume shopping.

As their jingle correctly claimed, Perry’s did indeed have something for me. Every year Perry’s had a giant wall of boxed Halloween costumes. Boxes with pictures of your favorite cartoon characters and a little plastic window to show you the mask that would transform you from a hyper-active child to a hyper-active child in a cheap plastic mask. Looking back now these costumes were horrible. No matter the character the costume was basically the same. A plastic jump suit and a mask. The jump suit often featured a picture of the character looking awesome, even dynamic. Which wasn’t exactly how the garbage bag made you look. The plastic masks had tiny holes in them. The thought being that you would use them to see and breathe.

Heh.

Before you were thirty seconds into your Trick-Or-Treating the mask was filled with condensation. Another thirty seconds and you started to sweat. By the time that first Snicker’s bar hit your sack you were on the verge of passing out. Who knew that dressing yourself in a garbage bag could be so dangerous?

After a couple of houses you’d give up walking with the mask on and only cover your face the second before you rang the door to beg strangers for candy. As the night went on you’d momentarily envy the kids dressed as Dracula or some other creature not featured on Saturday morning cartoons. But the envy quickly passed, soothed by thoughts of how awesome you looked and how much candy you’d gotten. Assuming you didn’t get your bag snatched by some older kid.

Schoon Fact: I’m convinced that there is a special place in Hell for anyone that ever snatched a bag of candy from some little kid.

Fast forward to modern day and kids costumes are far cooler. You wouldn’t dare catch a kid today dying in some plastic nightmare. Hell, last year I was shocked by the amount of kids that didn’t have costumes at all. I’m not talking about the twelve-year-old with the pillow case that’s too cool for dressing up but still wants free candy. I mean little kids in street clothes and an orange wig or a Payton Manning jersey. Sure there were still lots of kids thrilled to assume the identity of Spider-Man for a night. But I saw more then one nine-year-old in jeans and a sweatshirt just out for M&Ms. Sad.

Could the loss of G.L. Perry’s be a factor in this growing attitude? Do kids walk into Walmart, wander down the costume isle and sigh. “They have nothing for me.” ?

--Schoonaert