THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1994, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Saturday, October 22, 1994 TAG: 9410210089
SECTION: DAILY BREAK PAGE: E8 EDITION: FINAL
TYPE: Column
SOURCE: Larry Maddry
LENGTH: Medium: 80 lines
WELL, HERE comes Halloween.
As expected, a costumer is capitalizing on the Nicole Simpson murder. Just in time for pumpkin day comes a tasteless O.J. Simpson costume with an O.J. Simpson mask, bloody football jersey stitched with No. 32, and a plastic knife. Price: $50.
That's a lot of money to pay just to scare people at a fancy Halloween party. Maybe ``scare'' isn't the right word. I guess it's attention the wearer of that costume wants.
After all, there isn't much about Halloween that's scary after you hit your 10th birthday. Unless you've run out of M&Ms and the tricksters set fire to your porch.
As you may have guessed, I'm not someone who jumps up on a chair when a mouse zips across the floor. Well, rarely anyhow. And lightening don't chase me into the closet. I just don't frighten easily.
But that doesn't mean I don't break out in a cold sweat now and then. But it isn't from seeing a goofball in a dumb costume. It's usually because I've heard something on the answering machine at home. I tell you if somebody asked me their advice for a costume that would scare people out of their wits I'd tell them to dress up like an answering machine. Maybe one with red and green electric lights in the mask's forehead.
Some really spooky stuff turns up on my machine. Now and then the matter-of-fact voice of a complete stranger will chill my old ticker like the Milky Way bar that has turned brick-hard in the freezer compartment of the refrigerator.
Sometimes I come home at night, see that green message light blinking and have a sixth sense that I'll be in deep yogurt once I've listened to the taped message inside. Eerie. Don't know why I know it. Just something about the ominous look of that blinking light that tells me bad news is coming at me faster than a car down the backstretch of the Charlotte 500.
And ever notice how often really bad news follows the words ``by the way''? The other night there was a message from an officer in our condo association that was pleasant and chatty for the first few minutes - until I got the zinger.
The zinger went something like this: ``By the way, our building and grounds committee has noted that some of the balconies and walkways need repair. They are getting cost estimates on this, and we'll get back to you when we hear some-thing.''
I'll just bet they will.
There are a lot of messages people leave on answering machines that can porcupine your hair faster than a Stephen King movie. That's why I'm sure an answering machine Halloween costume would scare the socks off every person answering the door for a trick-or-treater.
All you'd have to do is wait until someone answers the door on Halloween night and squawk out some of the little hummers that folks find on their machines from time to time.
Stuff like:
``Hi . . . this is Bob, your broker. Uh, remember when we discussed that coffee stock in Brazil and I mentioned that past performance isn't always an indication of future earnings?''
``Hello. This is Reginald Stewart at the Internal Revenue Service. Would you give me a call, please.''
``This is Bill Sharpe at Star Jewelers. Your engraving is finished on the ring. But may I ask who told you the stone in that setting was a genuine diamond?''
``Hi. This is Al's Park and Pay. Al said to tell you somebody crushed your fender but not to worry, because he made the guy give him his name and phone number. Uh, looks like it's a New Mexico area code. . . .''
``Hello. This is your son's teacher. I need to schedule a meeting with both parents as soon as possible.
``Sir, I assume you are the owner of a toilet kit and clothes bag, right? The sheriff would like to see you down at the jail and asks you to bring them when you come.''
Trust me, kids, that costume is your passport to horror. We are talking hair-raising jolts of terror here. And another blinking good idea - free of charge. by CNB