What amazes me to no end is how
houseflies can sleep clinging upside-down to the ceiling, and Halloween.
And you should realize that this
week’s literary adventure isn’t going to be about houseflies. Rather, it is about Halloween.
Halloween is a minor holiday that
can be interpreted as either religious or secular. It is believed to be a celebration about the
dead on the eve of the Christian day, All Hallows Eve.
It is also interpreted by
non-Christians as being a celebration by Druids, which began in old world Great Britain
No one is quite sure, but we
celebrate this last day in October, nonetheless.
And we do so by carving pumpkins
into Jack-o’-Lanterns, dressing as alter egos, and exchanging treats in lieu of
tricks.
All this activity begins with
extreme enthusiasm because little kids get to dress up as so many different
things. Some of these costumes are store
bought, while others are hand-made by creative, crafty parents.
It doesn’t matter because it is
often as big a deal and exciting for the parents as for the kids.
My formative years were spent in
a northeast industrial city. Those words
should give you an idea of our average October 31st. Cold with a good chance of snow was the
normal forecast from roughly early October until May.
It didn’t really matter what your
costume was or what it looked like, it was usually hidden by a warm, hooded
parka.
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| Smokey the Cat's buddies trick-or-treating |
Still, my earliest recollection
of Halloween was me dressed as a bear cub.
This store-bought costume was made of highly flammable Nylon and
finished-off with a hard plastic mask that was held in place with an elastic
band.
The costume caused profuse
sweating, while the mask succeeded in limiting your vision to near zero, and
crushing all your facial features. Talk
about waterboarding…
My Grandmother, Mother, and
Father, all oohed and aahed as I was crying and whimpering. It was awful.
Awful, until I was led from
house-to-house by my tiny hand and given goodies, that is.
I was careful to use the word
“goodies” instead of candy. Our
neighborhood was flush with widows who were likely living on meager earnings. In any case, they didn’t hand out candy like
other homes did because it was pretty expensive.
After ringing the doorbell, we,
as a group of neighborhood friends, would step back to shout, “Trick or Treat!”
with gusto.
Apples were proudly turned into
candied apples on sticks, by Mrs. Jones.
Mrs. Kaiser gave out popcorn balls, and Mrs. Beblowski tossed a
concoction of pretzels and melted chocolate into our trick-or-treat bags.
None of us could see what, in the
form of loot, was being deposited, though.
So, after the door was closed with a genuine smile, we would turn, lift
our masks, and try to decipher what we had just scored. Then it was off to the next house with an
illuminated porch light.
And then, just as today,
Halloween is one of those really iffy events.
No one knows how many kids are going to show up to extort for swag.
One year we it would be 30, the
next year 10, another year 50. So
getting enough treats was difficult to anticipate. Kids grew up, some would rather attend church
parties, and some were remanded to serve jail time. But I digress.
It was those years when the
homeowners failed to anticipate well. We
knew because we found loose change, sticks of chewing gum, and pencils in our
bags.
Today, trick-or-treaters show up
wearing street clothes and sporting beards – real beards, that is. Sometimes it’s difficult to tell who is
wearing a costume, period. Some parents
look as though they are costumed as trollops when they are not. Alas.
Still, it didn’t matter. We had fun traipsing about the neighborhood,
all dressed in different costumes, but still looking like a tribe of Michelin
Men in our toasty parkas.
In any event, have a safe and
enjoyable Halloween!
