Boo! Sometimes I scare myself!

Happy Halloween! Tonight is the night celebrate all that is scary and spooky by dressing our kids up as pirates or princesses then sending them out to beg other people for candy while we go to costume parties. I realize that princesses panhandling for candy and disguised grown-ups doing jello shooters aren’t all that scary or spooky but it makes as much sense as Valentines Day … right?

In the true spirit of Halloween, I think it’s time to take stock of what really scares us. I can’t speak for everyone; there are people out do things that would scare the crap right out of me. Guys who marry the same woman twice and people who eat cottage cheese voluntarily … fearless daredevils who either have no sense of fear or, from where I sit, no sense at all.

I’m not a real skittish guy, I worked the flight deck of aircraft carriers at night, I’ve jumped out of airplanes and once I even sat through 90 minute Oprah Life Lesson TV show to convince my wife I was committed to our relationship. I still shutter when I think about that night. That said, there are things that scare me and, as you may have guessed, I’m going to tell you about them.

Cats give me the creeps. I’m not afraid of lions, tigers or cougars (OK, the two legged cougars are terrifying) but house cats are just evil. Any animal that uses your couch to sharpen its claws, coughs up fur balls and looks at you with utter distain cannot be trusted and should not be allowed in your house. Cats will put a hex on you with those creepy eyes … really it’s true! Why else would people allow them to take a dump inside their homes? Pure evil!

I am not afraid of ISIS but the IRS scares the shit out of me.

It scares me that there are adults who vote for their favorite American Idol but not their local school board election. I’m afraid of maltrodextrin and monosodium glutamate … I have no idea what either of those things are but they’re ingredients in a can of soup from my cupboard and that’s scary.

Nancy Grace is a spooky broad! Speaking for middle aged married guys everywhere, watching somebody else’s wife self-righteously dispensing justice on TV is terrifying!

I have a reoccurring nightmare that the “health –Nazi’s” manage to outlaw ice cream. Low fat sugar free ice cream is an unholy abomination and we should all be afraid of it.

I’m afraid that Sylvester Stallone will make Rocky VIII or Rambo XI. You’re old, Sly, it’s time to keep your shirt on and wear your glasses … and what’s up with your eyebrows? I have no idea what the Expendables was about; I spent the whole movie looking at the perpetual surprised expression on his face; like a train wreck it was hideous but I couldn’t look away.

Intimacy is terrifying … I’m an American male, of course I’m afraid of intimacy. Horses are afraid of rattlesnakes, dogs are scared of fireworks, Fox News is afraid of Ebola and American men are scared of intimacy … it’s just the nature of things.

I have an unnatural fear of that nasty stuff in the Vienna sausage can. What is that stuff is anyway? I freely admit that I would squeal like a little girl and do the spider web dance if I got that nasty stuff on me. Just the concept of small wieners in a can is creepy but adding meat gel is just diabolical. Why anyone would but that horror show in a can is beyond me.

Ghosts, ghouls and vampires don’t scare me because they aren’t real but cell phone zombies are all real and that keeps me up nights! There’s no escaping the cell phone zombies; sitting in restaurants mindlessly staring at their phones, in planes, trains and automobiles texting or talking about meaningless gibberish and sitting on the couch in homes everywhere crushing innocent candy and tending farms that don’t exist! It’s terrifying because crowds of zombies are drawn to sporting events, concerts or any event that involves actual living so they can take selfies to send to other zombies. It’s madness!

I’ve got to stop now; I’ve managed to scare myself! It’s time to put away my computer and cell phone so I can make eye contact with the trick-or-treaters at my door … that should scare the little buggers!