The day we moved into our apartment one of our neighbors dropped by to welcome us to the building and the neighborhood. Through the course of conversation he mentioned that Halloween was kind of a big deal for our little hamlet of West Hollywood. Cool, we thought, after living over the hill from the Castro and up the hill from the Fair Oaks Halloween street fair we can definitely get down with the neighborhood Halloween party.
Cut forward a few weeks when we had our fifth neighbor ask us what we were going to be for Halloween: we realized this must be a really big deal. And indeed, it is. Four stages of entertainment, with Santa Monica Boulevard completely closed to traffic for several blocks. Apparently it’s the second largest festival in Los Angeles, behind the Tournament of Roses parade. Mere blocks from our house!
D and I spent some time
arguing debating our costume concepts, only to decide in the end that neither of us had the necessary creativity for the execution of any of our ideas. On the day of we weren’t feeling so hot anyway, so we laid low, watching Dracula before making our way down to the Carnaval in our street clothes. There are many photos available on Flickr (dig Pacman and the Mrs.!) but here are some of my favorites.
Mile High Airlines (the oxygen bag on the right says “SUCK HARD”):
The Dog Whisperer:
The only disappointment of the night was Kevin Federline, and why am I surprised? I wanted to check out his performance like I would want to check out a train wreck, and I was giddy with the promise of a healthy dose of schadenfreude. When the time came, Mr. Spears not only took the stage more than 20 minutes late, but barely bothered to get in the Halloween spirit (witness the lame-ass cape he put on over his wanna-be-gangsta clothes). And I’m pretty sure he was lip-synching the “rap” part of his performance, because it was at a noticably lower volume than the “yeah, yeah”s he threw out during the instrumental bits. Meanwhile, the boos from the crowd were so clearly drowning out the few people who were politely clapping that I almost felt bad for the guy. Except when he left the stage after “performing” only one “song”. The lameness was so overwhelming, it didn’t even enhance my feeling of superiority, just my depression that this, this is what the record companies are forcing down people’s throats these days. Oh, well: Happy Halloween!