Skeletons Out Of The Closet

Being a skeleton means never getting fat-shamed. Sure, the bony jokes are there for the taking: "Dude, maybe dial down your Ozempic", "Wow, it was bad enough when you were just 'skin' and bones" and "Taking the heroin chic look to extremes, eh?" just to name a few. But, rest assured, no accusations of never missing a meal will be uttered. And, one can assume, that within the skeletal community, there's a bit of mudslinging regarding virility: "I see someone hasn't been drinking their milk" or "Your bones are so brittle, bet you leave powder trails." Obviously, all this is tongue-in-cheek, something foreign to skeletons as they don't possess either of those body parts. Also lacking is the capacity to hear criticism or react to it 'cause, like, they have no brains... or ears (you'd think cartilage would linger longer, right?). Truth be told, other than casting an ominous figure, they really don't have the capacity for anything else.

Nevertheless, these emaciated osteo-hangers-on are ubiquitous. You can't turn around without getting tangled in one of their dangly legs or coming face to face with their hollow eyes and eerily clenched teeth. It's like their constant smiles are a ruse, pretending to be all cheery and stuff, lulling you into a false sense of security just before terrifying the livin' bejeezus out of you. Odd too, that we would be so frightened of 'em, being as each and every one of us possess a skeletal frame. Granted, it manages to make itself scarce visually, hiding inside our skin and all but we do get a gander now and then when being x-rayed. And, consciously, it does come to the fore for us when we crack a rib, stub a toe or ride out that eerily, tingling pain after hitting our funny bone. Even more to the point, we totally get their utilitarian function, without which we'd be a gelatinous heap of flesh wasting away on the floor. And yet, no one seems put off by any of our other innards, be it the liver, kidneys, pancreas or heart. Nope, it's all about the bones.

Indeed, the fascination people have with skeletons and skulls has always baffled me. Especially, as it manages to encompass people of all ages from all walks of life. I mean, what self-respecting motorcycle gang doesn't have at least one in their repertoire? Likewise, try finding a twenty-something tatted-up hipster who doesn't sport a half dozen of 'em up/in their sleeve. Same goes for the so-called "mature" parents, flying their Jolly Rogers on car windows and bumper stickers, flanked by "Baby On Board" signs. And the kids, yeah, they're down, plastering them all over notebooks, backpacks and social devices, absent-mindedly doodling them at their desks during another boring English Lit class. They're on coffee mugs, t-shirts, do rags, leggings outfits, hats, coats, socks, sneakers, and even underwear. They fly proudly on flag poles, on bar and restaurant signage, they're all over rock group merch, liquor products and an array of virtually every professional sports teams' products. They're so widespread the movie "Everything, Everywhere, All at Once" should've been about them.

And all of these cranium promoters, they're not part of a fad, some kind of "here today, gone tomorrow" zeitgeist. No, these skull exhibitors have a history dating all the way back to 7200 B.C., where they were proudly shown in homes in the Middle East. In 300 A.D. Aztecs actually displayed skulls of defeated warriors while at the same time Mexicans were using them as symbols to celebrate the Day of the Dead. Come the 1300s, chalices and churches were being decorated by Europeans with--you guessed it--skulls and bones. And then, in the 1920s American artists brought them into vogue where they remain today. Their symbolism is often associated with death, mortality and afterlife but they can also depict spirituality and transformation. And, in some cultures, it can stand for resurrection and rebirth. So, could that be the secret to how they maintain their dominance; they're all things to all people? Both the yin and the yang? Is there more to them than meets the eye or is it simply people find them scary cool?

Okay, so make no bones about it, that's a lot of talk about... bones. What gives, you say? The Halloween season. I do my fair share of walking and I couldn't help noticing that these grinny, jangly, cadaverous fear-mongers were everywhere in the hood, outnumbering the other displays by a ten-to-one ratio. And a lot of 'em are humongous. Talkn' 15 feet high, oftentimes a half dozen on one lawn, wreaking havoc to the community in tandem. It's like all the neighbors are trying to one- up each other for bragging rights, to claim this is when they reigned; this is where they made their bones (yeah, I went there) ... Okay, that's it, I've said my piece. Got it all off my chest. For now... Ya know, until the next Halloween season rears its ugly head (what's that, like right after July 4th?). It's just... ya know... those things... they scare the livin' bejeezus out of me.