Ok. I’m going to say it knowing full well I will come to regret it. And though it almost sounds un-American, even to me, I must admit I hate Halloween. It’s not only because of the huge and hideous lighted plastic orb cum pumpkin that my neighbor put on his lawn last week, a match for the massive synthetic tarantula another neighbor posed in a giant maple in his front yard. No. I have been feeling this way about this holiday for some time now.
Perhaps it stems from all those years rushing around, feverishly trying to prepare my kid for a few hours of door to door fun, inventing the most creative costume I could so that what… she could be queen of the pumpkins? Simply on principle (one that escapes me now), there’d be no store-bought, tie-on princess garb for us. That was until I created the Halloween piéce de résistance, Miss Liberty – torch, crown and bible meticulously spray painted a tarnished copper to match a green draped, flowing robe. Never mind the hours it took me to paint my daughter’s cute round face – a red, white and blue replica of the American flag complete with stars above and below her right eye. It was truly a work of art only to be wiped off minutes after I finished. She no longer wanted to be Miss Liberty. Instead, she headed for the basement, sifted through our costume trunk and came upstairs as a fabulous witch, all in about five minutes.
Costuming aside, (and I do believe we Americans could muster up a bit more ingenuity than doling out two billion dollars a year on Spiderman and Princess Leah outfits), I am staunchly against the whole candy thing. I may sound somewhat curmudgeonly, but I find it hard to rationalize giving bags full of the disguised white stuff to innocent little kids. We do know, don’t we, that refined sugar is not only not nutritious, it has the capability of leaving us all quite crazy hyper and in a state of utter stupor. It makes you wonder at the bio-chemistry of it.
My own unique way of dealing with the candy conundrum was to eschew the treat and settle on the trick. For a few years, I dressed up as a witch, blackened the lights, lit candles throughout the house and played a very scary tape that could be heard by anyone wandering up the front path. Not many had the nerve to venture all the way to the door. I, however, had a great time cackling. I have always excelled at cackling.
So, heads up to all of you witches, ghouls, vampires, superheroes, French maids and wizards, let’s forget Halloween. Why limit ourselves to just one night when we can be whatever we want at any time. We could smear the greasepaint and howl at the moon whenever we felt like it. At work, at the market, at the gym, in the boardroom, we could play a whole slew of interesting parts. It’s a devil of an idea. Tomorrow, for starters, I’m going to be William Faulkner.
Sixties Chick 