Oct 1, 2013 3 min read

It’s been projected that the roughly 158 million Americans who will participate in Halloween this year will spend almost $7 billion on costumes. That’s down from last year, and this decline in spending may mean that Americans have less disposable income. But I’d like to think that the “Naked and Scared” haunted house planned for Sinking Spring, Pa., had something to do with it.

Until last week, Patrick Konopelski, owner of the Shoktoberfest attraction in the small town near Reading, had planned to offer customers the option of touring the house in the nude, despite the fact that this would remove the possibility of having their pants scared off. Konopelski told media he got the idea after watching the reality show “Naked and Afraid,” in which two strangers spend three weeks in the wilderness, naked.

Exactly why naked people would be more scared than clothed ones is something I can’t quite figure out. I guess it has something to do with feeling vulnerable. But Konopelski apparently hasn’t been to a beach or nightclub or watched music videos recently, and must not have neighbors who take out the trash while dressed only in Fruit of the Looms and an open bathrobe. Konopelski claimed rubber masks and knives fail to scare people these days, so he needs a new tactic to frighten patrons.

Maybe he should offer to sell them health insurance.

No matter, because officials of the Township of Spring nixed “Naked and Scared,” ostensibly because nudity wasn’t covered by the attraction’s permit. Even though he planned to offer the naked option to adults only, and only when clothed attendees were not on-site, Konopelski agreed to the coverup. Instead, he will offer a “prude option” that allows customers to go through the haunted house wearing only their underwear. He plans to try to offer “Naked and Scared” next year. So if the idea intrigues you, you have 12 months to plan what not to wear.

My advice for those fretting over what to dress as this Halloween is to revert to the Good Old Days. I’m thinking specifically of the late 1950s, when I was a kid, and a suit of my dad’s long underwear and a rubber mask turned me into a German shepherd for a night. We’ll know by the time this column appears if the Pirates have been sent to an early grave by the Cincinnati Reds, but my bet is that even if that happens, pirate costumes will still be popular in Pittsburgh come Oct. 31. Dress your kids as Pittsburgh Steelers, however, and you run the risk of their being booed off the front porch.

For the truly financially strapped, I have even better advice for choosing a costume: Put on a suit, stay home and do nothing.

When trick-or-treaters come to your door, tell them you’re a congressman.