Once again I was disappointed on Halloween night. Our plastic pumpkins were lit up, Mark’s bumpy pumpkin-gourd was all lit up, and we had candy bars in a bowl.
Six o’clock came around and nobody showed up. Then it got to 6:05 and nobody was even on the streets. In fact, it wasn’t until 6:10 that the first group of kids came moseying along the street as if they had all the time in the world.
What’s up with the lackadaisical attitude? Don’t kids know they only had TWO HOURS to gather up all the candy they could? Why weren’t they running from one house to the next to get the most candy they could in that short bit of time like I did when I was a kid? Why weren’t they sweating through a cheesy mask they could barely see out of, tripping on their homemade witch’s costume and falling to the ground, only to get up and run some more to get MORE CANDY? But no. This Halloween, only two teenage girls ran up our driveway and that’s because they hooked up with some friends that had discovered we were giving out king-size candy bars. But they were the only ones with any sense of purpose.
Oh, there was the kid who wanted to get an extra giant Twizzlers for his mom, but I suggested the king-size was surely enough to share with his mom. He just shrugged, made the Twizzler disappear in this gaping bag and mosy-ied off down the road. What up, lazy dude?
I was also disappointed at the lack of scary costumes. I saw not a single ghost, not one witch, no ghouls, and nary a zombie. Instead, we were visited by the ever scary maize and blue wolverine, some princesses, a mermaid, a kid in a police uniform, and a couple of kids in homemade contraptions that made them look like diseased puppies. Mark standing next to me in a black hooded sweatshirt looked scarier than any kids that came to our door. That’s just wrong. What happen to good old fashioned blood and guts? It’s called make-up, kids. You should get some. A creepy mask is a good thing, too.
And speaking of creepy, why don’t we hear reports of creepy people putting bad things in candy anymore? Not that I’m a proponent of that, but that’s part of what made Halloween scary when I was growing up—the fear that some whacko out there was putting things in candy to harm kids. We had to take our candy home, spread it out on the floor and throw away anything that was partially wrapped, like bubblegum or root beer barrels. Not that anybody gives away bubblegum or root beer barrels anymore, but are all the candy-altering whackos behind bars now? Or is the quality assurance on candy so good that scary element has gone away, too? Or doesn’t anyone really care?
And what’s the idea behind kids that can’t even walk being pushed in strollers and going trick-or-treating? I mean, really, some of the tiny ones didn’t have enough teeth to eat candy with, so, gee, it must be for the Mom or Dad who don’t have the guts to dress up themselves OR are so proud of their kid they have to show it off to everyone. “What a cutie?” I’d like to say, “But she can’t eat candy, so what gives?”
I also have to mention that while most kids said “Thank you” after they took candy, “Trick or treat?” wasn’t spoken most of the time. I’d say half the parents had to remind their kids to say “Trick or Treat?” The “Thank you” is nice but “Trick or treat?” is the point of the evening.
Indeed, Halloween isn’t what it was when I was a kid. Back then, it was for kids of walking age who wore scary outfits and ran to get as much candy as we could in two hours, yelling “Trick or treat?” before we even reached the door . . . only to go home and have our moms say, “Hm, that one’s not wrapped very well.” And, “Hm, if you don’t want your Snickers, could I have it?”
Next year, I think I’ll dress up in something really scary, and after the kids get their candy, I’ll blow off a firecracker to get them running off to that next house with great purpose. Indeed, when they ask “Trick or treat?” next year, I’ll be able to answer, “Both.”
