Ahh, the good ol' holidays

just add candy...exactly how J-Lo would've wanted it As I sit here today scrambling to piece together a suitable 'at-the-buzzer' Halloween costume, my mind can't help but drift back to the autumn days of my youth. Free from the muddle of topical humor and lofty artistic expectation, this costume thing used to be so much easier, didn't it? Especially for myself, as I pretty much knew by September what I'd be moonlighting as come October 31st. Yes, the only actual costume predicament back then was deciding if I'd be Joe Montana, Boomer Esiason, or Kentucky's generic #12 QB (although my desire to extenguish ghosts with my Pro-Ton pack superseded my football fetish on a few occasions). There was nothing quite like strapping on that replica regalia and hitting the streets, hunting out chocolate as if it were an open reciever. Doug Flutie enjoyed his old costume so much he stuck with it throughout his career Now, as anyone from my generation will surely attest, the uniform had to be verbatim and it had to be Hutch. Franklin and Rawlings, for all their repute, couldn't quite copy the feel of a Hutch, with their little shoulder pads and punter's helmet. It was indeed the perfect costume for any boy, or girl with a father who really wanted a boy, and as long as the York Peppermint Patties and Three Musketeers were kept to a minimum, you were assured a truly Happy Halloween.