When did Halloween get to be a Major Holiday? Who decided to stretch it out over a week?? One day--for a mere two hours--in the neighborhood. Another day at the mall. Still another at the grocery store, going from department to department. (I can understand getting a cookie from the Bakery and an apple from Produce...but what do the Meat folks hand out? A pork chop? Do kids leave the store with a can of soup and a bar of soap, too?)
Over recent years, I've continued to be astonished at the marketing--and subsequent buying--of all things Halloween. Huge Halloween stores open when school starts. Yard displays that rival Christmas. Socks and underwear. Hand towels in the bathroom, for pete's sake.
Halloween is so big now, they had to add two more colors; besides the classic orange and black, purple and green are part of the decor.
Which brings me to my topic for today: the Halloweens of my childhood. Like many people, I think some of the simple holiday practices of the past are better. Hands down, "our" Halloweens were so much more fun:
1. Costumes were home-made. Nobody wore those flimsy tie-in-the-back costumes from the store. They were basically coveralls, with something printed on the front to let people know what you were supposed to be: Superman, Minnie Mouse, a skeleton. They came with a full-face mask to complete the disguise. Plus, everything went over your regular clothes. So lame.
We just sort of put together outfits for the day. Hobo, gypsy, witch, ghost. Perhaps a scarecrow--a variation of the hobo, with some straw tucked in here and there. If we had access to some professional gear, there was the exciting possiblity of using scrubs and a stethescope, as modeled by my son, Andy. Or a hat and badge. Almost always a mask, but makeup was okay, too, if it wasn't too fancy. Sometimes our moms would stitch up a costume. But overall, it was a casual affair.
2. Trick-or-treating was unrestricted. We began the minute we got home from school; on Halloween weekends, in mid-afternoon. With big paper bags, off we went, limited only by curfew and strategy. Up and down blocks, door to door. The goal was simply to get as much candy as possible. To hell with the dentist. Some masterminds were able to fill a bag, and make a second run in a different neighborhood. Word spread like wildfire when a house was giving out full-sized candy bars. We could never quite decide if getting money--a nickel or dime--was a good thing.
Once we got back home, sorting the haul was part of the drama. How many candy bars? Anything worth hiding? Why were there so many suckers? And who thought a homemade popcorn ball was a good idea? It was pure kid fun. Even if parents insisted on rationing, we had successfully scored a big bowlful of sugar. That was enough.
3. Adults didn't intrude. Hard to believe, but "back in my day" the adults stayed out of the way. They stood at the door and handed out treats. Moms took the toddlers out, usually before the older kids got home from school, but the mothers didn't wear a costume. Neither did the dog. Houses weren't decorated with lights, cob webs, graveyards, mist makers, and blow-up grim reapers. Pumpkin carving resulted in pretty much the same jack-o-lantern faces every year. Hacked out at the kitchen table with a paring knife.
Halloween was fun because it was the one day to be greedy. For a few hours, you could plop on a mask and roam freely with your friends, gathering as much loot as you could carry. Parents stayed home, so you could race as far as time allowed.
I understand the concern for safety these days, so don't write me about that. I'm saying that hauling kids to the mall so they can go from store to store does not equal my exhilirating Halloween experience. Where I live, people drive cars to a parking lot, and kids have the underwhelming thrill of walking from car to car. It's called "trunk-or-treating." Really.
Call me the Grinch of Halloween. I've already got the outfit scoped out--only $119.
Recent Comments