mychai's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Arnold Raison-ator... Jean-Claud Van Raison... JP Ahhh, Halloween. My mom called me this evening asking me if it would be considered too Paganistic to skip church choir practice to go to a Halloween party. Heh. Aren't those Southern Baptists absolutely adorable? I explained to her that Halloween is a decendant of Celtic new-year celebrations, so she wouldn't have to worry with the Pagans this year. She seemed relieved. What am I going to dress up as this year, you ask? A tattooed, red-headed student walking to class with my mate, wearing nothing but a pair of socks. Ok. Not all of that is true. My hair is more brown than red. But it's still red, dammit! Yeah... Halloween is fun and all. But, try as I might, I just can't get into it as much as I'd like. That's why I keep trying. Usually, I go to Halloween parties in my pajamas. That's my costume. My pajamas. But damned if I ain't comfy! I see people with all of that latex, fake blood, and hot-assed costumes, and I feel good that I came as "Crazy, Scary Sleepy Boy." Or, as Adam Sandler best put it, "Look at me! I'm Crazy 'Pickle Arm Boy'! I have a pickle for an arm! Pllllllease give me some candy!" See... Halloween celebration takes some kind of creativity. It's a kind of creativity I don't have. Wanna hear the most lame Halloween story you have ever heard in your pitiful lives? Here's a hint about how lame it is: It invloves me, Halloween, a mass of lies, and the California Raisons. Yep. Pretty lame-o. When I was in elementary school, I took Karate. And damned if I didn't move up the Karate ranks within a few weeks. I went from white to black belt in about a month. Read: I wanted to be in Karate. My dad wouldn't let me. So, I lied to all of my elementary classmates about how tough I was, how many boards I could break with my willie, and how many black belts I had. Yer ol' bud JP was a loser even way back in elementary school! But I **believed** I was in Karate, and that Mr. Miyagi and I were like that. I watched Karate Kid. I watched Blood Sport. I might as well had been a black belt. Except I didn't know what the hell I was doing. Random "Karate Chops" didn't constitute being a black belt. I realize that now. Damned hindsight. Anyway. So, I was in fifth or sixth grade, and I needed someone to help me dress up as something because I was "Crazy Scary Sleepy Boy" the previous five years and I wanted something new. We had this really kewl neighbor who was good friends with my mom. She dressed up for school (she was a teacher) as a California Raison. Remember those old things? The ones with the big glasses, snappy fingers, and they sang, "Oh, I heard it through the grapevine!" Remember them? If not, you're too young. Or you have a life. One of the two. So, I was going to go around the neighborhood and ask people for free candy dressed up like a California Raison. Let me clear that up... **I** was going to be dressed up. Not the candy. Misplaced modifiers suck. Anyway.... So, I had me a good Wal-Mart bag full of candy. I was even chomping on a caramel apple this one guy on the neighborhood made every year. They were wrapped in plastic wrap, so I knew they were perfectly safe. No razor blades in there, fo' sho'. (On a side note... did anyone ever find razor blades in their candy? I know it used to be a big concern. You had to check all of your candy to make sure there weren't any razor blades stuffed in the Snickers Bars. But I never heard of NOT ONE instance of razor blades sweetened with gooey caramel and chewey nugget.) I was walking down the street, eating my caramel apple candy corn (mmmm), and this guy jumped out of friggin' nowhere. He was about my age and was looking REAL kewl. He was a pirate. Me? I was a fucking raison. He said, "Argh! Give me all of your candy!" I proceeded to shit in my raisony drawers. I just stood there with a blank face -- hidden partially under the exaggeratingly huge sunglasses the Raisons wore. Then he laughed, and just said, "Ha! Just kiddin' man. Happy Halloween!" And he walked off. Then my tough-man karate lie kicked into gear as he walked away. I had also learned how to cuss that year, so I was calling him a bitch and a little shit... You know, what fake-tough 11 y/o's call each other. So, he came back and asked if I wanted to make something of it. I stared him in the eyes (through my big sunglasses), and did a karate kick right into his stomache. Dude doubled over in pain and lost breath. I just stood there and stared. I was ashamed of what I had just done. I was embarrassed that I let this lie get so much of me. So, I took out a few of those really crappy peanut butter candies that come in the orange and black wrappers -- the ones that no one likes -- and put them in his bag as reparation. Then I walked away while he was still laying on the ground, quietly crying. I still feel like complete shit about the whole ordeal, and I wish I could apologize to the guy. But damn... I wish I could have seen it from a distance: A California Raison and a pirate going at it, and THE RAISON WINNING! With ONE KICK. Gawd... I bet that was funny. 12:18 a.m. - Wednesday, Oct. 31, 2001 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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