Here’s another timely story that deserves a reprint for a touch of
nostalgia, along with a hardy chuckle.
Please enjoy it and return next week for a brand new essay. Thanks for reading!
A recent shopping adventure made me smile – behind my mask, of course – because of all the Christmas trees, bins full of wrapping paper, and toys. This prominent display of holiday retail revelry got me to think: Wow! We’re just two weeks away from Halloween.
Indeed, Halloween is approaching and will likely arrive before Thanksgiving and Christmas, unless Congress, who changed the time, declares otherwise. They have the power and ultimate last word in everything else so, why not?
Oddly enough, this evident calendar faux pas presented another great law of unintended consequences – lots more candy is suddenly available, and in spades!
While perusing the confectionary aisle I recalled days of yore when times were different, and I once again mustered a masked smile.
Years ago, one never knew how
many trick-or-treaters would stop by to raid the candy bowl, or if they would
even show up to beg or threaten for goodies.
After all,
Some years seemingly countless rug rats would envelop the street in a mob-like scenario dressed in a varying array of costumes ranging from the latest television characters and movie heroes, to the old standby hobos and witches.
Of course, there were some disguises that appeared professional while others seemed to reflect a last-minute, poorly executed attempt at candy pillaging.
Not to be left out, a few late stragglers sporting 4-day beard growths and smoking Marlboros invariably would show up in a weak effort to snag some free stuff. Unfortunately, those tired ploys rarely worked on me. Get a job, I say.
It was during some social awareness campaigns that the number of trick-or-treaters dramatically dwindled, though. Parents fearing for their children’s safety kept many of the masquerading kids home, on some occasions, while other years introduced community gatherings that were controlled and managed by neighborhood parents and housing organizations.
These feel-good efforts resulted in fewer kids marching from house-to-house-to-house to bang on doors demanding extorted goods by yelling, “Trick-or-treat.” And it usually worked. Except for the stingy neighbors, that is.
Yes, you know who you are. That is why your house is annually subjected to a good toilet papering or a thorough egging. But you asked for it.
Unfortunately, those safety-concerned awareness campaigns not only kept the kids off the streets and away from front porches, but they also created a supply and demand imbalance, resulting in people buying less goodies for next year’s Halloween go-around.
Because of the season change and waning daylight, wee children and pre-K tots normally made their rounds early – just after Mom and Dad returned home from work, about five PM.
Some kids were carried, others were dragged around by their hands, and some arrived sleeping in their strollers. But all were adorable and deserved a prize.
We’ve had bumble bees, elephants, princesses, clowns, science fiction characters, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, and soldiers darken our doorway. Firemen, nurses, policemen, chefs, and politicians also stopped by to join the All Hallows Eve fun.
But it was the early comers that scored tens on the give-away scale. After a few consecutive years of slacking visitors, we cut back on the candy and opted for something healthier and more appealing to my sainted wife and me.
Our modified giveaways consisted of pre-packaged pretzels and cheese crackers. Once again, because we wanted fewer leftovers, we bought less. And that was when the panic began.
Our pretzel and cracker bags were purchased in boxes of 48; we bought 2 boxes. That was the year we received 122 ghoulish trick-or-treaters.
It was at this moment that I recalled my own trick-or-treat adventures back in the 1950's and 1960’s. Then, the elderly neighborhood widows passed out homemade popcorn balls, caramel apples, and candied apples; labor intensive, but made with love.
It was when their supplies dwindled, they began passing out wooden pencils, loose change, and individual cough drops, all in the spirit of the moment.
Not to disappoint due to lack of preparedness, we contemplated passing out “thoughtful” treats along those lines and eventually resorted to turning off the lights in lieu of handing out sugar packets, cat treats, a handful of grapes, ice cubes, or Post-it Notes. I think that was a wise choice. And notation made for next Halloween.
On the other hand, a roll of toilet paper, paper towels, gas cards, or hand sanitizer might just appear overly generous and thoughtful in today’s climate.
In any case, Happy Halloween!
