Woody’s new novel “The Butterfly Tree” is available at Amazon (click here), other online retailers, and orderable at all bookshops.

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Boo! Here is something scarier than any ghost or goblin or ghoul: according to the National Retail Federation, this year Americans will spend $700 million on Halloween costumes…

…for their pets!

Yes, Halloween is literally going to the dogs—and cats.

As for humans, the projected figure to be spent on costumes in 2024 is $3.7 billion, plus $3.8 billion for decorations and $3.5 billion for candy—the latter figure does not include dental bills six months down the Candy Cane Lane. All told, according to the NRF, this works out to $103 per person, a tick down from a record $108 a year ago.

Spiderman is expected to be children’s top costume of choice this year followed by ghost, princess, and witch. Not surprisingly, witch will again rank as the top outfit for adults followed by vampire, cat, Batman, pirate, and a swollen number of Shrunken Head Bob from the new cult movie sequel “Beetlejuice Beetlejuice.”

As for pets, the NRF says the most popular costumes will be four-legged pumpkins, hot dogs, bats, bumblebees, ghosts, and spiders. Personally, I have loved eight dogs in my life, but have spent the same on costumes for all of them combined that my parents did on costumes for my three siblings and me growing up: zero, zilch, zip, not a dime.

You see, back in the 1960s, kid Baby Boomers made costumes with empty boxes and paint, bed sheets and old clothes, this and that, maybe some face makeup, and imagination.

Instead of store-bought costumes from a box, here are some outside-the-box Halloween outfits I would like to see knocking on my door next Thursday evening:

Shohei Ohtani dressed up like Superman and the rest of the Dodgers, dusting off a four-year-old costume stored in an attic trunk, as World Series champions.

Speaking of superheroes, I’d love to see firemen, nurses, police officers, and teachers dress up as members of the Justice League.

Every cancer patient dressed up as cured.

Amazon’s Alexa and Apple’s Siri costumed as helpful librarians, and vice-versa.

The new iPhone16 dressed up as a rotary rPhone1960 model.

Similarly, a family out for meal in a restaurant all costumed as Amish Mennonites without everyone having his or her attention focused on smartphone screens.

Throwaway plastic milk jugs dressed up as bygone “Leave It To Beaver” milkman-era returnable glass bottles.

All the current election yard signs dressed up as recycled trash.

Congress dressed up with “Will Work For Food” signs.

Patagonia founder Yvon Chouinard costumed as Administrator of the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency.

Every drunk driver dressed up as a taxi, Uber or Lyft passenger.

The Lakers’ father-son duo LeBron and Bronny James as Methuselah and Lamech.

Jack In The Box pitchman Jack dressed up as Ronald McDonald, and vice-versa.

SoCal weather dressed up as rainy Seattle and more specifically Ventura County’s brown hillsides in costumes as Ireland’s emerald landscape.

My laptop keyboard as John Steinbeck’s Hermes Baby typewriter.

Coming full circle to pets, I wish every shelter dog and cat could dress up as a pumpkin or hot dog or bumblebee whilesleeping on a newly adopted lap.

Lastly, according to a CandyStore.com survey, the least popular candy—“bottom of the Halloween barrel” is the description used—handed out this year promises to be the same as when I last went Trick-or-Treating: spongy yet stale banana-flavored yet oddly pale-orange-colored marshmallow Circus Peanuts.

Which reminds me of the proper way to eat Circus Peanuts: tear the package open, toss them in the trash, then enjoy this year’s most preferred Trick-or-Treat treat: Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups.

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Essay copyrights Woody Woodburn

Woody’s new novel “The Butterfly Tree” is now available in paperback and eBook at Amazon (click here), other online bookstores, and is orderable at all bookshops.

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Woody writes a weekly column for The Ventura County Star and can be contacted at WoodyWriter@gmail.com. Follow him on Twitter and Instagram at @woodywoodburn.

“If you can blow this balloon up with one breath you win a brand-new Cadillac,” the doctor told me just before I was to have my tonsils removed.

Considering I would not be old enough to get a driver’s license for another 12 years I would have preferred the promise of a toy Matchbox car. All the same, I accepted the challenge and inhaled the deepest breath of my young life . . .

. . . and woke up in a hospital bed wondering when the operation was going to happen.

“It’s all over,” my mom told me. “Do you want some ice cream to soothe your throat?”

I have since had more surgeries than I care to remember – wisdom teeth, kidney stone, entrapped nerve, deviated septum, cervical disc fusion – and each time I emerged from anesthesia’s fog I could not believe time had passed and the operation had already taken place.

That is sort of how I feel about the past year and half during the COVID-19 pandemic. Like it was spring of 2019 and I took a deep breath of anesthesia and suddenly I have awakened to autumn 2021.

Instead of having my tonsils or a kidney stone removed, I had birthday celebrations and holidays gatherings, concerts and vacations, all removed from the calendar. I bet you feel likewise.

Perhaps the best example I can give is a wedding of some young friends. One day my wife and I were ready to go to the big event and the next thing you know we were attending the reception for their pandemic-altered marriage ceremony that had actually taken place on Zoom over a year ago. And yet at the grand and greatly belated in-person celebration it seemed as if they had just said their vows minutes earlier.

I don’t know about you, but one of the biggest events I missed while being under pandemic-thesia was Halloween. Perhaps more than any holiday, Halloween is a time machine that transports me happily backwards. Hearing little voices sing “trick-or-treat” reminds me of walking my own two kids around the neighborhood.

Halloween also magically transports me to my own youth. Indeed, seeing a tiny Batman makes my mind flash back to when I taped a yellow bat insignia on a black sweatshirt and pinned a bath towel around my neck to go trick-or-treating when I was six. Age seven, too, for I loved Batman.

Trick-or-treaters at my front door pull up memories from a couple years later when my best friend Dan and I finished our rounds and then changed into second costumes before going back to the houses that were giving out full-sized candy bars.

Even my bad Halloween memories have become good ones with the passing of time. Like when Adam stole my pillowcase loaded with sugary bounty. To clarify, Adam wasn’t a boy bully, he was a black Labrador the size of a grizzly who lived in our neighborhood. Even though he was a gentle giant, when he came running at me I dropped my loot instead of taking any chances with his sweet tooth.

Because of coronavirus, not unleashed Adams, no little princesses and superheroes and goblins came knocking on my door last Halloween. Happily, this promises to change Saturday evening because the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention has given children the green light to again go trick-or-treating.

I cannot wait. My porch light will be welcomingly on and I’ll have a wheelbarrow’s load of full-sized candy bars ready to hand out, two at a time, to make up for last year.

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Woody Woodburn writes a weekly column for The Ventura County Star and can be contacted at WoodyWriter@gmail.com. Follow him on Twitter and Instagram at @woodywoodburn. His SIGNED books are available at www.WoodyWoodburn.com.

Personalized Signed copies of WOODEN & ME: Life Lessons from My Two-Decade Friendship with the Legendary Coach and Humanitarian to Help “Make Each Day Your Masterpiece” and  “Strawberries in Wintertime: Essays on Life, Love, and Laughter” are available at WoodyWoodburn.com