Halloween
Halloween, once a highlight of my year filled with fantasy, mystery and a hyperactive joyride on the sugar highway is now merely an over-hyped, gore encrusted; pricey nuisance that now elicits feelings of dread. Yet here I am being pelted by cold sharp raindrops watching as my little Robin traipses up another walkway while I stand trapped in a Batman costume lingering behind and sulking in my misery. Of course an umbrella would be handy at a time like this, however my three year old has informed me that Batman does not carry one, I must have missed that in the comic books. The woman from the door beams as she dispenses her tablets of sugar infused lunacy to my son’s plastic pumpkin, she waves at me from her warm dry house forcing me to respond by waving back and mumbling obscenities under my breath. This is not the Halloween of my youth it has gone from a simple event for children to a national obsession and thus has become a gross exaggeration of its previous self.
Even the costume that drapes across my body has evolved from our childhoods. There was a time when we wore cheap plastic sheaths barely discernable from an apron, manufactured in some third world country to resemble the reigning superhero or children’s character of the day. The mask a simple hard plastic forged to resemble the object of our affection, the slits in the eyes so sharp that it was not rare to notice our classmates unable to blink in unison the next day due to trauma sustained the night before. Underneath we were packed with warm clothes since the temperature according to our Mother’s would induce pneumonia. Waddling from house to house we resembled a stuffed turtle won at the fair as we did our best to get to every door in the neighborhood since the object of the evening was quantity not quality. Suspicious of the older women who insisted on giving out apples, for they were witches who hid razor blades within the innocent fruit looking to fell us like so many Snow Whites. Yet under this half a true costume and the irritating mask we were on a mission. Today the costumes are more intricate since they must service a public that lacks the imagination to transform themselves without detail. Not in my day, back then a towel was a cape yet today requires a trip to Toys R Us to fulfill a fantasy. In fact my Mother had once ensconced my body in aluminum foil and declared me the Tin Man, today that would require a visit from Child Services. Standing in my Batman costume, complete with foam enhanced chest I shiver as raindrops fall from the front of my cowl flowing like mucous from a sick child’s nose there can be no doubt that we were not shackled by details since the prize was what mattered and the ambiance was created by the dark night not made in China.
We walk by the houses with their elaborate decorations overloaded with scenes depicting dismemberments and blunt trauma that we only saw watching car wreck films in driver’s ed. class and yet the children pass by with nary a glance for these scenes are now commonplace to them. Where once decorating a house meant hanging cardboard witches, ghosts and ghouls on front doors with only the few overindulgent homeowners adding illuminated molded plastic caricatures of the season to appear unique, today fog spews forth from behind bushes next to giant blown up floats that rival Macy’s sucking up energy 24 hours a day, in my day we had an energy crisis! Yet none of this phases these jaded youngsters who by age six have seen more beheadings, dismemberments and stylized acts of violence than a Detective in a New York City precinct. Somehow though this challenges the adults who year after year attempt to find new ways to expose our children to savagery all in the name of entertainment. Walking past the chainsaw wielding madman it appears my son is skipping! Of course for those who desire more family centered entertainment the local establishments are more than willing to oblige. Here in Louisville, KY the local zoo has even institutionalized Halloween transforming themselves into a discount version of Disneyworld. Amidst one dimensional set pieces bored teenagers hand out high-fructose corn syrup creations aimed at addicting our children to the cheapest yet tastiest form of garbage imaginable. Just off this beaten path the animals attempt to sleep or hide in the dark as this attraction dedicated to scientific study and enlightenment becomes another casualty in a holiday gone horrible awry. Back in the memories of my youth we went nowhere except our own neighborhoods. If I had mentioned to my parents a desire to go elsewhere for Halloween they would have laughed at the notion. And gore was not even in the dictionary back then; instead we had classic villains like Dracula, Frankenstein and the Werewolf who committed their atrocities off camera and managed to murder without bloodshed, they were craftsman unlike the hacks of horror we are stuck with today.
When we return home my wife quickly takes my son’s bag, choosing to distribute four pieces of candy and then a thorough scrubbing of his teeth before sending him off to dream-world. Not the parenting skills my parent’s performed! We were allowed to scarf down whatever we could, gorging on sweats until it would ooze from our pores. Our bodies caught between the desire to bounce around the room on this sugar induced high and the need to rest off the effort involved in stuffing ourselves. We would smile as our siblings made panic inspired halfhearted attempts to run to the bathroom instead vomiting their bounty on the carpet in the hallway. They would scamper crying and puking at the same time like a vomiting cherub from a Victorian fountain they flowed for what seemed like forever, yet much more colorful than water. Our Mother’s shrieks not unlike the ones emanating from the headless woman decorating the latest house my son begs from. Later we would thrash about in a restless sleep as our brains tried to eliminate the flood of sucrose it was drowning in. Not my son, he sleeps peacefully without even a cavity to concern him. When I was younger we slept with sugar encrusted mouths drifting off to la-la-land by the sounds of our teeth rotting away.
Where once preparation for this so-called holiday involved buying a few bags of cheap candy the expenses have grown along with the popularity. Costumes over $20 for kids, $50 for my Batman! Front lawns strewn with devices once only seen on Broadway stages driving home energy bills higher than a sub-zero winter. The classic villains of yesterday either replaced by sadistic butchers of the modern silver screen or altered to portray them in ways their creators never imagined. Indulgence replaced by regulations as parents jazz their children up with imagery and expectations and then attempt to control it. Where once the holiday was a day-long event it is now a month long celebration of the macabre. Now we are forced to wonder the depths this commercialism may take us, looking forward to lawn ornaments replaced by holographic images, even higher priced costumes or perhaps the declaration of a national holiday allowing us to stay home from work and spend our money where it belongs in the malls.
