Well, we’re coming up on that time of year again. Do I buy pumpkins for outside or not? By Halloween, the chipmunks and squirrels have eaten holes in them, making us look more or less like that derelict property in the neighborhood that everyone avoids. If I put out attractive swags of Indian corn, the birds will have stripped them clean in a matter of days. And while I got out my mighty leaf blower to tidy up a day or two ago, they’ve all blown back in again. My gardens are largely compost too at this stage. It’s that in-between season where the fall colors have faded, the leaves have fallen, the days are cooler, and Herself limits my turning on the heat unless we have a really crisp morning.
I’ll admit that, as I get older, there’s less and less appeal for Halloween. No, I don’t dress up any more. Haven’t for years, in fact. For my slightly eccentric neighbor, this is the high point of her year. She has elaborate costumes and hangs all kinds of spider webs and lighting to entertain the visiting gremlins. For us, the excitement has long gone. I feign excitement, but I really just want to say, “Take the candy and go away.”
We’ve run the gamut of Halloween experiences. Our first house was in a nice, older neighborhood. The previous owners, for religious reasons, shut off the lights and locked the doors. Our first Halloween, with the porch lights on and distributing candy, I heard one parent out on the street say, “Wow. Never expected to see that house lit up.” My thoughts went to an Addams Family-type house that you see in outline when the moon comes up. Did our house leave that impression in the neighborhood? Our next house was out on the outskirts of town, on a cul-de-sac. We bought bags of candy, based on our previous experience. We got about 4 trick-or-treaters, and I was forced to eat the remaining sugary bags myself. Those are the kinds of sacrifices I’m willing to make. Now we’re in a rather large condominium association right in the center of town. You guessed it – we’re a magnet. The roads are lined with cars, families dropping off their costumed little ones on the presumption that we’re self-contained, reasonably safe, and great hauls of candy are to be had. I’m going out later today to buy up whatever stocks of candy I can find. My mother died on Halloween, many years ago now, but that still lingers. The princess was little – maybe three. I made a flying trip to be with my father, and then literally flew home to take Elizabeth trick-or-treating. On an amusing note, our next-door neighbor at the time – for some reason, we collect quirky neighbors – quite got into the spirit of Halloween, dressing up as a witch and sitting on the front porch. Lizzie and her mother set out while I covered the candy distribution center. As the duo mounted the steps, the witch rose from her chair. Lizzie thought it hilarious, while her mother let out of scream of fright, which I assume added an eerie touch to the whole street. All in all, quite successful.
In my extreme youth, we lived in a suburban neighborhood outside Boston. We’d get all dressed up and hit homes in the immediate area. My mother used to tell of the year that I somehow became attached to the teenagers that lived next door and babysat for us. So, while my brother and sister came back early with modest bags of loot, I went far and wide with Peter and Barbara. My bag was bulging, but my mother, who tended to go to the darkest scenario, was sure that I was either dead in a ditch, had been kidnapped, or was floating in the pond at the end of the street. She was ready to send out a APB and put together a search party when I got home. I remember a candy-filled post-Halloween filled with lectures on safety as we practically went into lock-down. Worst part – I had to share my haul with my brother and sister.
Later, we moved to a small town in Southwestern New Hampshire. It was a tiny village, with a two-room school, four grades in each room. There were six of us in my grade, and trick-or-treating was not impossible, but much more strategic. We’d go out, but it was too far to get much candy. Pretty much hit the houses right in the center of the village. Our neighbors, Avis and Al Colby lived a couple of miles up the road. Avis Colby was a retired English teacher, a very nice lady. She and mother were great friends. Anyway, she confided to my mother that she’d made and specially decorated candied apples and nobody came trick-or-treating. This was in the days when you could make and give out homemade treats without fear. I understood her disappointment, of course. Their house was really out in the middle of nowhere. Only one or two other houses and a summer camp on the road. If you got lost and wandered without purpose, a dirt road meandered through woods and came out in the next town. Rather like Garrison Keillor’s great comment about Lake Wobegon. He’d explain that “any strangers wandering in would ask only two questions. Where Am I? and How do I get back to the highway?” Our corner of the world was much pretty much the same. Anyhow, getting back to my story, my mother informed us that, under no circumstances could we skip the Colby house next year. We were to go there willingly, and bring whatever scant school friends we could muster. I really expected that, if Mrs. C was that disappointed, she’d drop off a few for us the next day, but no, that didn’t happen.
I tend to think now that many of the Halloween trappings are sadly a bit outdated. We have two hours here in which the young folk can wander from house to house. It varies from town to town. Giving out candy has become rather a nuisance. One year, I had to be out-of-town attending the wedding of one of my teachers. I know what you’re thinking – who plans a wedding on Halloween? But Halloween fell on a Sunday that year, so ok. Her Ladyship wasn’t up to getting up and going to the door, so I set up an attractive bowl of candy with a sign on the front porch. Upon my return, I found the candy, bowl, and sign all gone. I was frankly surprised the tray table on which I’d put everything, and the pumpkins on the steps still there. That tells you what we’ve become. The first hour is bearable – the little ones in their costumes, so excited, and their parents standing nearby and prompting them to say “thank you”. Heading into the second hour, it’s the middle school and a few high school students, who have lost even the pretext. Maybe a little make-up, a wig with jeans and sweatshirts. If they’re really getting into the mood, they’ll add a baseball cap. They’re shamelessly in it for free candy, not a good idea for most adolescents. Even my high school students admitted it was pretty lame when their friends came to the door.
Buying candy carries with it a real dilemma – when to buy and, of course, how much? If I buy it too early, I’ll eat it. Of course, the stores have it out sometime mid-September. By the week of Halloween, it’s all gone and the Thanksgiving decorations are up. But consider this – do we really need to advertise free candy? Do Nestles and Hershey need a holiday boost? Isn’t Easter enough? Do kids even need all that sugar? My recollection is that my school kids were on a sugar buzz lasting well into November. Some parents, like my mother, would dole it out carefully, but some don’t. There should be commercials about “eating chocolate responsibly”. Not only that, but we have to be very careful what our children are given, and have had to for quite a while. When Elizabeth was growing up, we’d be selective about the houses at which we’d stop. People we knew fairly well. Relatives. The lovely lady on the corner was perfectly safe. But you sometimes had to watch out for some that answered the door – they were a bit creepy by nature. Some might be called “visions of Halloween” all year long – scary was their normal state. So, perhaps as we’ve largely departed from kids selling things door-to-door for the boy and girl scouts, relying on the extended family and the internet, we might consider that it’s wise for Halloween to do the same. Maybe we could all chip in a few bucks, have the DPW fill up a town dump truck with candy, and offload it a various designated locations around town. Trick-or-treaters could stop by and fill up their bags. And I can watch Wheel of Fortune and Jeopardy without having to run to the door every few minutes.
I'm Thinking...No! 