It has long been one of my favorite nights of the year. The Final Day of October, when shadowy Celtic tradition holds that the nether world of the spirits and phantoms draws close to our mortal world, and yet perhaps close enough that the phantoms can and will cross over into our flesh and blood reality. To me, this night now known as Halloween has been an evening of imagination, a tension-filled mix of earthy trick-or-treat candy rewards juxtaposed with ethereal dark fears bubbling near the surface. For years I have loved dwelling on this boundary of fear-induced sweat and temptation of free sweets. My house has always been know as "that house". Beware!
But for years now, despite pleasant outdoor weather and an elaborate display and show of jello brains, a large spider, a skull and many lit candles arrayed about the foyer, few trick-or-treaters have come to my door. A victim I suppose of an off-the-beaten path kind of street and neighborhood demographics. I would lie in wait every year, looking and listening for parents and little ones to traipse down my block. The parents standing back at the sidewalk urging their little ninjas, princesses and hobos to go up and see what happens when they ring my door bell. All the while the costumed kids begin to think better of the idea and fear that their here-to-fore trusted parents have suddenly lost their senses and now are actively placing them in danger. "Mommy I don't want to go up there!" Dad insists the super hero should give it a try, but it is plain that Dad can no longer be trusted to have their best interest at heart. Alas, fewer and fewer have come this way over the last several years.
This year, I did not buy and carve any pumpkins. I left my large venomous spider and its web in its Halloween drawer. I just was not sure I could handle another disappointing Halloween. I did buy a couple bags of candy, because I just wanted to.
Then Sue got an invitation to go to a chili supper and bon fire for All Hallows Eve from some of the folks at her new church job. She asked if I would like to go along or stay home to answer the door. That invitation was the proverbial "Nail in the Coffin". We left the porch light off and backed out of the driveway gracefully. No little goblins got a single piece of candy from me this year.
Sad. So Sad.
But for years now, despite pleasant outdoor weather and an elaborate display and show of jello brains, a large spider, a skull and many lit candles arrayed about the foyer, few trick-or-treaters have come to my door. A victim I suppose of an off-the-beaten path kind of street and neighborhood demographics. I would lie in wait every year, looking and listening for parents and little ones to traipse down my block. The parents standing back at the sidewalk urging their little ninjas, princesses and hobos to go up and see what happens when they ring my door bell. All the while the costumed kids begin to think better of the idea and fear that their here-to-fore trusted parents have suddenly lost their senses and now are actively placing them in danger. "Mommy I don't want to go up there!" Dad insists the super hero should give it a try, but it is plain that Dad can no longer be trusted to have their best interest at heart. Alas, fewer and fewer have come this way over the last several years.
This year, I did not buy and carve any pumpkins. I left my large venomous spider and its web in its Halloween drawer. I just was not sure I could handle another disappointing Halloween. I did buy a couple bags of candy, because I just wanted to.
Then Sue got an invitation to go to a chili supper and bon fire for All Hallows Eve from some of the folks at her new church job. She asked if I would like to go along or stay home to answer the door. That invitation was the proverbial "Nail in the Coffin". We left the porch light off and backed out of the driveway gracefully. No little goblins got a single piece of candy from me this year.
Sad. So Sad.
 |
| My house in happier terrorizing times Halloween 2014 |
No comments:
Post a Comment