Maybe it's be-cause I was raised Catholic, and therefore, trained to hate pagan rituals for reasons both spiritual and practical.

My earliest memories of Halloween include my second grade Catholic school teacher explaining we should wear fire retardant clothing and make sure our parents look through our candy before we eat it, as though I was dumb enough at age 7 to a) eat an apple before the mounds of candy that lay in front of me and b) bite into an object with a giant razor blade sticking out of it.

Or maybe it's because I don't like putting on makeup, at least not since the incident ...

Or maybe it's because eating candy is a yearlong celebration for me. But whatever the reason, there's something about Halloween that just weirds me out.

More likely, it's because I still have no idea what I'm dressing as this year.

My well has run dry. I've been a superhero on many occasions (Ghostbusters, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Iron Man, Superman and The Incredible Hulk). I've been monsters (a vampire, Frankenstein's monster). One year, I was then-topical F-list celebrity Lance Ito, the judge in the O.J. Simpson trial.

It's not so easy being a fat dude. While girls ranging from "vaguely attractive" to "smoking hot" can transform into various slutty professions, there isn't much of a market for "fat cop" or "fat male nurse."

I mean, my dad's been both of those in real life, so I think calling them "costumes" would be a bit disrespectful.

It's a tragedy that we as a society only lionize so many fat people, and the ones we do seem to die so quickly. I dressed as John Belushi last year, so my fat heroes list is down to Chris Farley and The Notorious B.I.G., both of whom are fat and dead. For obvious reasons, dressing as the latter would also be a bit disrespectful.

But who can I turn to now?

Perez Hilton? Too feminine.

Rosie O'Donnell? Too masculine.

My last option is to go the post-modern route: What would Ziggy Stardust have looked like if David Bowie, "The Thin White Duke," used his Hunky Dory cashflow on ho-hos instead of heroin? I intend to find out.

There are a number of issues involved, however.

Getting my hair bright red and my skin pasty white is going to involve some serious cosmetic treatments.

I haven't really dedicated my time to scouring local clothing stores, but I'm just assuming it's going to be difficult to find a fabulous silver jumpsuit with a red lightning bolt across the chest, especially one in my size.

I'm also looking for my Spiders From Mars.

It's one thing to coordinate costumes with one other person much less finding three people to serve as my Halloween backing band.

But even with all the obstacles in my way, it's always gratifying when a Halloween costume, especially a homemade one, comes together. And whether mine does or not, I'll still enjoy watching everyone else's ridiculous/embarrassing/ ridiculously embarrassing costumes come together and fall apart over the course of a wild post-Ohio State game Saturday night.

And for that reason -- the pageantry of the Halloween season -- this week's Venues is dedicated to Halloween.

If you're looking for a last-minute costume, check page 14. If my seasonal pessimism has got you down, check music reporter Adam Clair's column on page 27 for another view. If you're looking for something to do this week, this issue's chock full of Halloween ideas.

And if you're morally opposed to Halloween, I'm sorry. See you next week.