Nowadays, costume originality seems to be left to credit cards, TV ad blitzes and box store floor displays. As for the fresh baked goodies reliably garnered from the weird and wacky old lady who dwelt in the spooky gray house at the dark end of the block? Well, they have been reduced to hermetically sealed mega bags of sugar bombs guaranteed to put the family dentist into a new Mercedes. Fresh fruits? (Yeah, I thought they were lame back in my time too.) Forget 'em unless they're screened through a metal detector, blasted with x-rays and chemically analyzed by a crime lab.

Things have changed so much that, in certain Lower 48 areas, the only way a kid can get some serious trick-or-treating done is with an armored Humvee and close air support. Come to think of it, even as adults, things that used to creep us out have morphed, big time.

H. P. Lovecraft once stated that, "The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown."

In other words, overactive grown-up imaginations brew well in psychological cauldrons overflowing with trepidations of what lies just beyond the reach our senses, especially with a couple of shots of Boone's Farm Pumpkin Wine under the belt.

Think about it. What scares you now? Certainly not ghoulish urban legends, werewolves, vampires, ghosts, gargoyles or goblins, because you are mature and know better, right? What about entities that are slippery, slimy, squiggly and squirmy, especially, if they skitter and scuttle? Or, do only creatures that creep, crawl and are clammy bother you?

Let's not forget graveyards oozing gnarled fingers of fog that seem to grope and strangle surrounding tombstones. Or, a rhythmic thump on your cabin that continues long after a midnight tempest has died.

Could it be that you are repulsed when something furry quivers at your fingertips as you reach deep within a hole in a wall? Does it bother you when your dog bristles and growls at an empty room? Does your spine grow icy at the creaking of old cellar steps when no one else is home? Do you get goose bumps when something suddenly slithers along the storage shed's wall as your flashlight dies? Did I mention the sight of my repulsive dog Howard in broad daylight? How about all ofthe above?

You are not alone. There are many things that terrify post-adolescent personages. But, not all have claws, drooling maws or razor fangs. Not all screech, howl or wail.

How about the hideous specter of Christmas commercials in September and reality TV sequels targeted at those without discernible brainwaves (contestants included, of course)? Or, even worse, droning political debates between a busload of president wannabees who can't figure out who is more frightening: each other or the incumbent. And, let's not venture anywhere near the quicksand-laden quagmire of local issues or the strange ongoings within the catacombs of the state Legislature. Merely considering such horrors makes one shudder more profoundly than catching a glimpse of Marlon Brando sporting nothing but a set of Speedos (that boy's grown so big that he's beginning to affect the tides).

Finally, did you realize that, even with all the aforementioned repugnant manifestations considered, somewhere out there lurks an entity and peril much more insidious? It triggers steely hearts to race and blood course cold at just its simple mention. It is the ultimate stalker and gives no quarter.

It is a certified letter from the IRS, the quintessential definition of something that can really scare the hell out of you and may eventually eat you alive.

Ain't growin' up fun?

Nick can be reached at wufferdawg@hotmail.com when he is not cowering in the dark, afraid of his own shadow.