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My Favorite Halloween Story
By: Greg Goodsell / Bakotopia.com contributos
Description: Politically incorrect costumes are always the best way to go as you'll find out HERE!
Topics: Halloween Costume,
october,
2007,
1982,
Greg Goodsell,
Bakotopia,
Bakersfield,
blog,
Culture,
comedy
Posted by Bakontributor
Tue Oct 16, 2007 14:53:13 PDT
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My Favorite Halloween Story
Politically incorrect costumes are always the best...
By Greg Goodsell, Bakotopia.com Contributor
In the early ’80s, I took to wearing suits. I thought it made me look serious and dramatic, but my friends and acquaintances felt otherwise.
“You look like a preacher!” was what I heard more often than not.
Invited to a Halloween party in 1982, I decided to take this idea to its logical extreme.
Taking my disco-era blue checked suit that I had graduated high school in, I added a few accessories: mirrored sunglasses and a gold cross on one lapel. I rubbed removable black hair dye into my hair and slicked it back with pomade. I gathered a Bible, a rubber snake and a gun replica into my hands before I added the final accessory: three Kool Aid packets adorning the other lapel. I was big hit that evening in my disguise as the Reverend Jim Jones.

(The real Jim Jones)
This being a mere four years after the mass suicides in Jonestown, Guyana, the horrors of Jones' People Temple remained fresh in most people's minds. Some quibbled over the tastefulness of such a costume, but overall, it did its job in making others laugh at death, which in effect is what Halloween is all about, anyway.

(Greg Goodsell as a more fashionably hip Jim Jones in'82)
I revived the outfit again in 1985, at a party attended by several punk rockers. Everyone had their own horror story about dealing with men of the cloth to share with me, and they all said I had by far the scariest costume there. Everybody elected to go trick-or-treating up and down Oleander Avenue afterward, and so people along that tree-lined street would open their doors to surly boys and girls in the heir late teens, early 20s, screaming “trick-or-treat!”
People were first intimidated, but then saw me and automatically assumed that I was a preacher taking some wayward youths down the street for some odd “reparative therapy.”

(The original weapon of mass destruction)
A few older married couples took me aside to tell me about the wonderful job I was doing for the area's troubled youth. It all flew over their heads when I smiled cryptically and offered them a mason jar full of foul purple liquid and said, “Have some Kool Aid …”
*Originally printed in Bakotopia Magazine, Issue 13, 10 - 19 - 07