Shady Bar Bus Tour) held her annual Halloween bash on Saturday night — 20 years now and still going strong. I went as Albert Einstein, a holiday costume made easy by naturally unkempt hair and the shaving of the beard.
(I forgot why I kept a beard until I shaved it off. The regrowing of the beard has already commenced.)
Of course it was fun; anytime you throw a hundred-plus people and alcohol in the same warehouse, revelry is bound to ensue. Factor in the weird people Barbie knows and you can't miss. Early on I bumped into a woman and spilled her drink, prompting a great immediate sarcastic response: "Way to go, Einstein." I had a couple of excuses for my boneheaded mistake: I was working on a sliver of sleep since Thursday, and my mind was several hundred miles away — far and wee, as E.E. Cummings once wrote.
I was thinking about Jack and Sally, about The Shining, about Halloweens past and future, about good memories gone bad and empty. I went outside to smoke a fag and looked into the black sky at the moon and thought about taking a walk and never stopping — just one foot in front of the other, through the cold night air, through the city and into the countryside. I wondered how far I could go before falling face-first from grateful exhaustion.
I wondered if anything will ever be alright again, and laughed at the absurdity. My mind was somewhere else in the middle of a party. I already had my answer. I mean, fuck, you don't need an Einstein to figure it out.
This is Halloween.