Year of the Movie Star

My brother starts thinking about Halloween almost as soon as we return from our annual July vacation. For him, it’s the next important activity on the calendar. He manages to wait until Labor Day though before he starts talking about costume shopping.

In recent years, he’s been Uncle Sam, an Indian chief, a policeman, a cowboy (sheriff), Captain America, the Lone Ranger, and King Tut.  It’s very serious business. He gets totally into whatever character he is playing, and is often most interested in the paraphernalia that accompanies the costume. Badges, tomahawks, guns, shields, handcuffs…..and hats…. hats are usually crucial to the look.

After I spent inordinate amounts of time & energy sewing Uncle Sam and the Indian chief, I determined that almost any amount of money was worth avoiding late night sew-a-thons and nation-wide ebay searches for red & white striped fabric.  Now we make an annual trip to the seasonal Halloween store that appears every September in a nearby city.

It’s crucial that we go earlier than later in the season on this shopping trip to avoid running all over creation seeking his costume choice in something smaller than XL. That’s because he’s pint sized. All costumes have to be altered. But when it’s XL to begin with, it has to be practically remade.  

So Saturday is the designated shopping day. As we walk from the car to the store, I remind him of all the [expensive] costumes he has at home and maybe he’d like to consider re-wearing one of them sometime.  He listens patiently as I recite the list of costumes worn one season, then packed away.    “No,” he says decisively, “maybe a new one.”  OK.

Once inside, the first order of business is to make the rounds to all the elaborate scary decorations set up and wired for sound/activity – zombies leaping from tombstones, two-headed babies, beings with bulging eyes gnawing on bloody body parts. We dutifully press all the “press me” buttons and step on the “step on me” wires on the floor that awaken all these creatures. This activity properly puts us in the Halloween mood.

Then we go up and down every aisle to identify costume candidates.  Right away, Dave sees a powder blue “outfit” from a Dumb and Dumber movie. I know this only because it says that on the package. I point out that neither he nor I know this movie OR the character so we shouldn’t even consider it.  He puts it back. I point out Spiderman, Superman, The Incredible Hulk, all costumes I think would please him ….. he ignores me and beelines to a Mad Hatter outfit.  He wants to know what comes with it, so I read the list of contents and point to them on the photo.   He seems mildly interested. Patiently I follow him from display to display. He picks up a haunted scarecrow outfit.  We review the package ingredients. I offer my unsolicited opinion  - “That’s cool Dave. You’d look spooky in that.” He opts to carry it with him.

He spies a black t-shirt with a white tuxedo/skeleton design on it. “I like dat, “ he tells me. “Yes, it’s neat,” I say. “But we’d have to put an outfit together around it.” It did not come in a package filled with other items. I note that the tag says “The Nightmare Before Christmas” and start looking for similarly tagged items.  I don’t know this movie so I’m disadvantaged. There’s a big white pumpkin head with the same label. Some gloves. This might work.  “Nah,” he says, distracted by a hat/mask he’s found on a shelf that looks like an armored knight might wear. “This cool,” he says. “OK,” I agree, “let’s find an outfit that it might work with.”  I go off in search of knight-like outfits. He vetoes the two I find.  

“How about we circle back and look at everything a second time, Dave,” I suggest as we reach the back of the store. He likes this idea a lot.  I remind myself to be patient – or at least to feign patience.  I would not like it if someone were hurrying me when I’m anguishing over which pair of jeans I like best.   I ask him if he remembers any costume that he might like to see again. “The one with the hat,” he says.    I find the mad hatter who joins the phantom scarecrow as a contender.  We pass Spiderman again. Bat Man.  A Power Ranger.  A pirate.  I show him an army ranger, a sailor in a sailor suit. I cannot imagine why Mr. Patriotic isn’t embracing either of these.  

“The other one with the hat,” my brother says suddenly. Which other one with the hat, I think? The knight hat?  He says it with such vehemence that I know he has something particular in mind. I usually lose at guessing games, so I steer him back to the beginning of the store . “Let’s start over and find what you’re thinking about,” I say.

Two aisles into the second round, he darts forward and grabs a package. “Dis one,” he says. It’s the powder blue Dumb and Dumber outfit. “Really?” I ask. I’m still stuck on we’ve never seen this movie and we don’t know this dude in powder blue.  My brother quietly says, “I be a movie star.”  A movie star.  OK. We examine the contents list. “The hat?” he asks. “Yes,” I assure him, “it comes with the hat.”

We look a little longer but he has obviously made his decision. We put back the Mad Hatter and the scarecrow and go to pay for the powder blue get-up.  “You’re sure?” I prod before we approach the counter.  David is smiling widely. He’s sure. The young man behind the counter says, “Oh, I can’t wait for the new one to come out.”  I admit that I didn’t know one was coming out, don’t know anything about the first one and “neither does he,” I say, pointing to my brother.  “He thinks he’s going to be a movie star.”

We stop at my aunt’s to try on the costume so I can pin the pants and the sleeves of the jacket in order to alter them – and so she can see it.   He wants to try on the whole thing so I help him with the frilly tuxedo shirt, the cummerbund. “The hat?” he says worriedly. “Yes, there’s a hat here. Don’t worry.”  I take it out of the package, pop it back to life, and place it ceremoniously on his head.  I look at my aunt. “He looks like a pimp,” I say.  But my brother is beaming.  I think he’s actually blushing. “Me a movie star,” he proclaims, striking a pose. My heart, understanding his fantasy, starts to smile.  He says it again, a little more sure of himself   – “I am a movie star.”  He wiggles his eyebrows and makes an exaggerated motion with an invisible cigar that would do Groucho Marx proud.

I make a mental note to find him a fake cigar.  A star may be born.