When I was growing up, broomsticks and pitchforks were standard Halloween accessories. This year, the cigar may be the big thing -- sure to add to the fun for all those Monica and Bill lookalikes that will take to the streets on that scariest of American holidays.

Thankfully, our children are too young to aspire to be America's most tasteless couple. Rather, Becca wants to be a 1950s gal, complete with poodle skirt. Of course, she's likely to settle on a far different costume by Halloween. It's tough to make up your mind when you're 6.

Bailey wants to wear her blue Jasmine outfit, complete with princess shoes. She's almost 3, but still prefers to be a princess rather than some ugly witch. Who can blame her? It's tough to be a witch in today's society, what with all that Disney programming constantly showing up the shortcomings of those broom riders.

These days, Halloween has become more of a costume ball for aging baby boomers. And why not? We remember those days when we wore homemade costumes and were expected to tell a joke to get the candy. That's what Trick or Treat was all about. These days, it's more treat than trick.

The National Retail Federation reports that a high percentage of adults will be dressing up this Halloween.

Consumers are expected to spend $3 billion on Halloween merchandise, which makes you wonder what kind of spell we are under.

We are told that the blame rests with baby boomers, who pine for the good old days when it was safe to walk the streets dressed as goblins.

As one of America's 76 million baby boomers, I can relate to such thinking.

I fondly remember those costumes my mom made. My sister and I often wore related costumes.

One year, I was the organ grinder and she was the monkey. Another time, I dressed as the Lone Ranger. My sister tagged along as the Indian sidekick, Tonto.

My sister considers it more like some awful, evil spell. To this day, she insists she still hasn't gotten over the embarrassment of having to play second fiddle to her older brother. Naturally, I couldn't have been happier playing Lone Ranger on my stick horse or showing off my organ-grinder monkey.

These days, no one looks kindly on masked men riding stick horses. They'd rather have Monica kits.

The $15 kit includes pearls, beret and a White House intern badge. The black wig costs extra and so does that blue dress.

The best thing about impersonating Monica is that you don't have to worry about spilling anything on your dress. Any stain on the dress will only add to the decor, making it a sure hit with busy moms whose children can be messy, little ghouls.

For those who want to look like Clinton, there's the "Wild Bill" mask. It has a lolling tongue, bugged out eyes and a lipstick mark on the cheek. Halloween hasn't been this much fun since President Nixon was in the White House.

For those who prefer to steer clear of politics, there's the Titanic disaster to draw upon.

You can get a Titanic costume, complete with a sailor hat, T-shirt, inflatable inner tube and blue-freeze lipstick. Add a little dead-guy gray makeup for the face and hands, and you too can look like a corpse.

Of course, I won't be dressed as a corpse or any other frightening thing.

Bailey has informed me that I'll be a purple horse. She thinks Joni should be a yellow horse.

Next thing you know, we'll be galloping off into the sunset together. But first, we have to escort our children around the block so they can get their share of candy.

Isn't it amazing what we'll do for that sugar high?

Still, there is one thing I won't do even on Halloween. I won't smoke any of those cigars.

~Mark Bliss is a staff writer for the Southeast Missourian.