A friend of mine once said that “Halloween is the time of year when guys like us get to shine.” Of course, at that time “guys like us” meant black nail polish and ample amounts of eyeliner, known to the kids today as “guy-liner.” Halloween is still my favorite time of year, even though now I wear considerably less makeup than I used to. I mean, I still wear some. I don’t just roll out of bed looking like this after all.
Despite its lack of presents or a signature food item, I still love Halloween. I usually spend the months leading up to it preparing an unnecessarily elaborate costume— this year I was the T-1000 from “Terminator 2”— and attempting to watch every horror movie known to man.
You would think that as I got older— and less dolled up— that the day would lose some of its magic, but it has remained quite steady. I’m a kid at heart and in mind and in practice and I’ve got the toy collection to prove it.
After re-reading those first few paragraphs, I feel that I may have divulged a bit too much of my personal life and background. Kindly forget everything that you have just read.
Anyway, my original point— which I was getting to in a very roundabout fashion-is that despite my continued love affair with the last day of October, I’ve been getting the impression lately that I may be a member of a rapidly shrinking minority.
Then Halloween night rolled around and was so kind as to affirm my suspicions.
See back in the day, Halloween in my house was measured by the laundry basket.
Allow me to elaborate. Each year we would give out little party bags full of candy. We
typically made enough to fill about two laundry baskets. As the years progressed, the
number of bags given out got smaller and smaller, and thus the number of bags put together also shrank. This year the magic number was four.
Not four laundry baskets either, but four PEOPLE came to our door trick or treating. Total. All night. Its at this time that I would like to point out that my house isn’t located on top of a mountain and we have absolutely do NOT have a moat out front filled with killer
Look, the point is that trick or treating is an important tradition that seems to be rapidly fading away. Some of my fondest childhood memories involve making tracks around the neighborhood at night with my dad and sister or a group of close friends, ringing doorbells and ignoring those hilariously misguided “please take one” signs that some of the less
personable or available houses put out.
There are a ton of excuses why this formerly beloved national pastime is about to go the way of the dodo bird. People are too lazy nowadays to go to the dollar store and buy a giant bag of candy, people are too untrustworthy, kids grow up too fast, the poor economy is somehow to blame, just as it is for every other problem that people have.
In case you were wondering, the cause of the H1N1 “epidemic” is of course the poor economy (somewhere, the 24-hour news networks are drooling at the thought of this “mega-story”). Actually, you didn’t hear this from me, but I’ve heard that the economy has gotten so bad that Mr. Goodbar had to sell his home and move back in with his parents. So long
swinging bachelor pad, hello mom and dad nagging you to get a real job.
What was I talking about? Oh right. Halloween.
Look, I refuse to let trick or treating be sent to an early grave. The thought of my kids growing up never getting to experience it depresses me to no end. I don’t get riled up for much, but this is worth it. If doing so requires me to kick down some doors and get sent to jail for burglary, so be it.
Because, Halloween is the perfect time of year for guys like us, guys like us in this instance meaning anyone who likes to get dressed up in a crazy costume, walk around on a beautiful fall evening and later eat your weight in Reese’s peanut butter cups.
What could possibly be more fun than that?
Grab your guy-liner and black nail polish. We’re starting a revolution.