Lost Halloween

"Ain't it hard
when the spirit doesn't catch you
Gravity's the winner
and it weighs you down
It weighs you down."-- Uncle Tupelo, Wipe the Clock

I had a run of four good Halloweens (I spent Halloween 2001 running after the company of my friends, as my father showed up sloshed at 5:30 p.m. then desperately wanted to hand out candy even though he could barely stand) that sputtered to a close last night.
The season isn't kind to my job. It's hard to summon the inspiration for a costume when pouring over the bios of political candidates, editing letters sent by their supporters/detractors and growing overextended by the schedule. Sunrise or sunset, I haven't seen many of either lately. I cannot claim to have missed much; at least autumn continues it rapid descent into winter.

Are these excuses for not throwing together a costume? Absolutely.

At least it will put me in the spirit of thinking about Halloween a little earlier next year, so I can offer something better than slapping on my fishing hat then claiming to be Henry Fonda from On Golden Pond.