Coming Up at RADAR: MYRIAM GURBA’S Halloween Hiccups

Halloween Hiccups

Before I was big enough to smack her down, my mother made Halloween’s sartorial choices for me. Clown. Rabbit. Cat. Devil. Thieving Gypsy. Yes, thieving Gypsy. Don’t blame me for picking an oppressed ethnicity as a costume. Blame Beatriz Gurba.

One year, I trick-or-treated as a Mexican. Looking back on this, I realize this was not a costume.

By age ten, I got big enough to boss Mom around and make her step off. I began designing my own Halloween costumes. I lumbered as Cleopatra, which, if you’re chunky, becomes Cleofatra. At age 11, I became the first and only child in the history of trick-or-treating to beg for candy costumed as a primatologist. I was so angry that the candy passer-outers in my neighborhood couldn’t figure me out. It was obvious, duh, I was giving a plush gorilla toy a piggy back ride, a dead giveaway that I was Dian Fossey, National Geographic pin-up girl.

The annoying what-are-yous that I experienced that primatological Halloween sharpened my empathy for similar cases, others whose Samhain experiences were marred by strange choices that seemed so genius in our heads, so mentally ill when executed. These are their stories (sound of SVU’s dun-dun!).

 

Case 1: Cristina R.

“From the Diaphragm”

I thought I knew everything about Cristina R. – we’ve know each other for about fifteen years, we were roommates in college, but last Easter, as we were tearing apart a ham, I discovered her Halloween secret…. She was in sixth grade and thought she’d seen it all, every witch, every vampire, every dull hobo. She wanted to break free of Halloween’s clichés. Also, in fifth grade, she’d had a wildly successful run as an old lady. The costume won prizes. She felt pressure to top that, so, she decided, “A hiccup. It’ll be great. Everyone will love me. Hiccup. Make it happen.”

The color green came to mind. It seemed so natural. Green. And it seems natural to me, too. A soothing, lunatic asylum green. Cristina never doubted her abilities. She needed minty tights and a trash bag to paint. She would jump up and down. It would be okay that she was amorphous. Hiccups don’t have shapes.

So what went wrong? Cristina had to cobble her hiccup…alone.

She walked to Walgreen’s and browsed for a face. The only thing they had vaguely fitting the hiccup bill was a heavy, green Frankenstein mask with grotesque stitching. Walgreen’s did not stock green tights. So, dressed in a horrifying mask, cape, and tunic, she walked to school. In her head, she was a hiccup.  Every few steps, she hopped.

At school, kids told her, “You’re a monster!”

“No,” Cristina said, jumping. “I’m a hiccup.”

“No you’re not.”

By the end of the school day, Cristina had stopped believing in her inner hiccup. She began embracing her outer monster. Her class hosted a haunted house for the little kids and Cristina climbed onto her desk and played air guitar. She kicked her legs in the air and realized that what she really was was a rock n’ roll monster.

Case 2: Melissa L.

“Sylvia Plath Wrote a Poem about This”

Melissa L.’s case presents some uniquely intriguing circumstances. During her early childhood, her parents belonged to the Jehovah’s Witness cult and, therefore, deprived Melissa of Halloween for years. On that special night, her family would shut out the lights at the front of the house, make popcorn, and hide from the godless in a darkened room.

By the time Melissa was six, her family had left the cult to join the ranks of the godless. Melissa entered Halloween society with full force. She and her best friend combined to form a cute besties costume: a pair of dice. With success notched into her belt Melissa thought, “My next costume will be a… mushroom.”

Why a mushroom?

“I was a funny little kid, strange,” says Melissa. “I liked the look of mushrooms. They’re beige, soft, and squishy. I didn’t like to eat them. I wasn’t going for veggie platter. I was going for aesthetic appeal.”

Like Cristina, Melissa did not doubt her abilities to manifest fungus. “Because of the dice, I got the idea that my mom had Halloween omnipotence. She was immediately on board and I could see the wheels start turning. She said there must be some sort of way that we could attach an umbrella to me and use the top as a cap and drape cloth over it and maybe wrap a tube around me and drape cloth around the tube. It seemed perfectly reasonable. I feel like I could do this right now.”

I talk Melissa out of this. She is my tallest friend and her mushroom stem would be just too long. She’d look like something else.

“So what went wrong?” I ask.

“The umbrella couldn’t attach to me, something went awry, and my mother was very disappointed that she couldn’t fulfill my Halloween wish. She was so disappointed that we rejoined the church. Just kidding. I believe that was the year we threw together an old woman costume, curly white wig, shawl, and a cane. I wasn’t excited, but when I finally stepped out I embraced the role. I shook my cane. But I remember feeling bad that my mom felt bad.”

Such pathos.

Case 3: Richard M.

“Perv”

Richard M. is a great guy I used to teach with. Because he still works with children, I have to be very careful not to reveal too many identifying details about him. Richard told me that when he was in junior high, his mom thought it would be a great idea to costume him as a flasher. A flasher costume is easy and inexpensive. All you need is a trench coat, pantyhose, and lot of gym socks. Richard’s mom stuffed one of the legs, tied the other around Richard’s waist and voila, her son had a third leg dangling out the bottom of his coat. The head swung as he walked, and Richard’s mom made him practice flashing in the living room. Once he had his routine down pat, she drove him and his brothers to school. Of course, Richard was a hit; he had a long, soft schlong  he could tap people on the shoulder with. His homeroom teacher, however, didn’t find the costume so amusing. She referred him to the principal’s office, and she thought the costume was disgusting and rogue. She called home.

“Mrs. M, do you have any idea what your son is wearing?”

“Yes. I made it.”

Silence.

“Well come and get him.”

Richard’s mom drove to school and being a proud woman, she didn’t apologize. She brought him home and let him have a free day.

(And in case you’re wondering about this year, my girlfriend and I are handing out candy as Frida and Diego. I will connect my eyebrows and wear traditional ethnic dress. TJ will stuff her overalls. The hiccup will be our shared bisexual lover. It’s an easy threesome.)

Myriam Gurba will be answering advice questions during the Hot Probs at RADAR at the LUGGAGE STORE Wednesday, October 12th, 7pm, 1007 Market Street at 6th, Free AND reading as part of RADAR’s Litcrawl program at the Lexington Club Saturday, October 15th, 7:15, 19th + Lexington, Free.