Mike and Mr. Monster

My favorite color is plain blue, I'm quite shy, one of my favorite dishes is cereal, I love the sound of stillness, and when I get to the Pearly Gates I'd love to hear God say that I did what I needed to do in life- I just existed. That's who I am. That's plain old boring Mike. But come the holiday season, beginning with Halloween, I become the outrageous "Mr. Monster."

My mom will tell you that as a child I was somewhat of an introvert throughout the year, but during the holidays, I became another being. I've come to call that being Mr. Monster.

Just like in the story of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, Mr. Monster totally takes over my body. In fact, I'm not even sure who's writing this piece right now. I think it's me- good old reserved Mike. But I'm not sure because Mr. Monster is tricky and can sneak up with his despicableness at any time.

So who is Mr. Monster? I'll tell you. He loves black and orange (Halloween colors) and red and green (Christmas colors), he's very outgoing, he doesn't eat much (I'll explain later), he loves the sound of really loud noise, and he'll never get the chance to even go near the Pearly Gates. Oh, Mr. Monster isn't evil- at least not that often. He's actually not so bad. But he's certainly not me.

As a child, the excitement of Halloween entered my body around August or September when stores would start selling Halloween costumes and those big bags of Halloween candy. That excitement brought out- and still brings out- Mr. Monster in me.

Whereas plain old Mike just exists like paint on walls, Mr. Monster is full of good old terror with tons of energy. In grade school, Mr. Monster participated in playground sports and games with fellow students. Mike, on the other hand, was lucky if the other kids let him clean up the resulting mess. Mr. Monster could easily be the class clown. Not Mike. Mike was never even considered part of the class, even though he was enrolled.

As a child on Halloween night, Mr. Monster fully ruled my body. Mr. Monster wouldn't let my body take in food. Mr. Monster wasn't hungry for food. The beast would be so excited to go trickor-treating that nothing would stand in his way, not even nourishment. My body would lack nutrition, sleep. If blood were motor oil, needing to be changed and replenished, Mr. Monster would have let my engine run dry.

When I got too old to trickortreat, Mr. Monster would build haunted houses to scare the little kids. But Mr. Monster still wouldn't let my body consume food on Halloween. The monster was so excited about frightening little children he would allow a broken limb or massive gouge to go untended before he'd miss one scare.

He's no dummy

Whether I like it or not, Mr. Monster is responsible for much of my life. Let me explain. My marriage is the result of Mr. Monster. The beast proposed during the Christmas season.

Mike wouldn't even ask his classmates to school dances, let alone propose to a woman.

My wedding pictures show my wife and Mr. Monster- not Mike. The wedding was in October, thank God. There's no way I could've survived that day as Mike.

Too much pressure and too much attention- and too much effort on my mother-in-law's part to make sure Mr. Monster showed up at the altar instead of the dull and quiet Mike.

Nobody wanted to see the bride on the arm of someone who might as well have been a wooden dummy. Guests need a wedding with two people saying their vows, not a ventriloquist act.

The planning of my son was not of Mike's doing either. Mr. Monster and my wife made those arrangements during the month of November. Luckily, Mr. Monster's actions in the "wife" and "child" departments had positive results.

A sucker for punishment

But Mr. Monster has done some things that I, as Mike, regret.

I've worn lots of horrible, horrible, outlandish clothes that were bought during the holiday season.

Again, this was not Mike's doing.

And those childhood fights, riding through the suburbs in an old recliner strung up behind a moving automobile, dumping old Christmas trees on Tom what'shis-name's front lawn- all of that reckless behavior took place at the hands of Mr. Monster during the holidays. Mike had nothing to do with any of that.

Honest.

One of Mr. Monster's stranger traits is his flair for being overly kind. Take for example his Christmas spirit. Mr. Monster once gave all my Matchbox cars away to a rich, spoiled neighbor kid who had everything, including brand new versions of all my Matchbox cars and some.

Mr. Monster would also pay his neighbors to let him put up their holiday decorations. Given the chance, Mr. Monster would act as a punching bag if he could persuade someone to take up boxing.

Hyde and go seek

So the Halloween season is here. Thanksgiving is right around the corner and Christmas will immediately follow suit. That said, Mr. Monster is most likely writing this story, though I honestly feel like I'm good old Mike.

But since I won't know for sure if I'm Mike or Mr. Monster until after the holiday season, when I can review my actions with my true "Mike" cap on, I offer a $3,000 reward to any reader who sends me an e-mail proving that Mr. Monster is, in fact, behind this story. Anyone want $3,000? Just show me some proof of (my) identity and I'll send you a check. I'll pay you after the holidays.

E-mail Michael Picarella at pic@nappic.com or go to www.myspace.com/familymen.