SOLICITING US DOOR TO DOOR AT HALLOWEEN.

Byline: Kimit Muston Local View

I think Halloween is the best children's holiday of all.

Sure, kids only get candy, whereas on Christmas they get actual presents, but the kids have to pay for those presents by pretending to be little angels from Thanksgiving until Christmas morning, whereas on Halloween they aren't expected to act like anything but kids, for which they get to collect candy from complete strangers.

I mean, even those stingy yuppies in Seattle - who wouldn't pay a lousy 10 cents extra for their $5 double-mocha latte habit to help underprivileged preschool children - will hand out tens of dollars in free candy on Halloween night to 8-year-olds who are privileged enough to be able to throw food away. At neighbors' houses.

Is this a great kids' holiday or what?

But when you become an adult, Halloween turns scary. Because while the kids are on the outside working their door-to-door extortion scheme, we're trapped on the inside. When the bell rings, we have to open the door. On All Hallows Eve, you never know what might be standing on the other side.

Why, it could be one of the undead, like Gray Davis the un-governor. Didn't we vote to bury this guy? So why is he still hanging around? Every time I turn on the TV, he's giving a speech or signing a bill or offering an opinion. Who does he think he is? Bob Dornan?

Throw some garlic at him, for crying out loud. Listen, at this point I'd pay the darn increased auto registration fee if he'd just go home. Doesn't he have some vacation time he could use up?

Meanwhile, our other un-governor, Arnold, just had a meeting with the president, and, according to Arnold, he didn't ask the president for anything specific - such as money.

Listen, Arnold, let me explain to you how these high-level intra-governmental negotiations are supposed to work. You shake the president's hand, and then you say, ``Trick or Treat!'' Then, if he gives you a bag of money, you say, ``I'll be back.''

Got your lines, baby? OK, action!

Of course if you open the door and there's nobody on the porch, then you've been visited by the invisible man, Mayor James Hahn. This kid shows up just long enough to promise to push your doorbell issue and then - whoosh. It's as if he was never there. On the bright side, you don't have to give him any candy. He collects his directly from the Hershey's lobbyist.

I have heard that this year the kids in the Rush Limbaugh costumes will be accepting only something called ``Blue Babies,'' but I'll bet if you substitute blue Tic Tacs, they'll never know the difference.

And if the little girl on your doorstep threatens to run around the neighborhood screaming your name if you don't give her enough candy, what you have is a little girl in a Kobe Bryant lawyer costume. Pay her. Pay her whatever she wants.

Or maybe the horror on your front step will be some kid carrying a picket sign, wearing an MTA mechanics union costume. If you do get a visit from these kids, ask them how they got there, because I'm betting it wasn't by public transportation.

And if there's a Lexus idling at the curb, I wouldn't give these kids anything. They've already got more candy than the Brach family. Why should you give up any more of your precious, hard-earned candy to some kid making an average $50,000 for providing a service for people who make on average $15,000 a year?

You know what? I think the mechanics-union kid should try finding health insurance on $15,000 a year. Now that would be a real striking horror story, don't you think?

Of course your affluent trick-or-treater might be a member of the Bus Riders Union, because, to tell you the truth, I can't tell their costumes apart anymore. You don't suppose the bus riders are really just MTA union members masquerading for the TV cameras, do you? So the unions can collect more candy by being in two places at once?

No, of course not. Who would desecrate Halloween with such cynical behavior? Besides me.

Now every Halloween has to have at least one pumpkin, and this year I nominate for lousiest costume the Cindy Miscikowski councilwoman outfit. It comes with a smiling mask, a little-bitty diamond tiara and a riding whip. Many parts of this costume constitute a choking hazard for taxpayers.