Halloweeny thoughts and such

There are times (many actually) when I sit back and think, ‘I am doing better than I deserve.? Halloween is one of those times of year when I’m thinking it more often.
What gives, you are probably asking? Come on, Rush, Halloween is a wonderful time of year!
I will answer by whipping out my official curmudgeon cap, and retort, ‘Halloween has been hijacked by those evil, money grubbing Capitalists!?
Halloween used to be kinda? fun, in a simple, prankish kind of way. If you were little (say six years old and younger) moms could spend two dollars and 79 cents and come up with a store-bought costume.
After that, costumes were self-made. Boxes, paint and some tinfoil and I was a robot.
Old, shredded pants, one of my little sister’s tee-shirts and green body paint, and I was the Incredible Bulk. Burnt corks rubbed on the face gave the illusion of unshaveness on young, fresh-scrubbed hobos.
Mom and Dad stayed out of the fun, relegating themselves to candy-giving. Kids did their own thing, like soaping windows, costume creating and candy collecting. Something seems to have gone terribly wrong.
Somewhere along the way the little holiday became more of a ‘thing.? Halloween is now something parents have gotten a hold of and made not so fun.
Their kids? costumes have to be better than any other kid not of their loins; homes must be decked out more than for Christmas; it just seems less organic and more stressful.
This added to the fact we’re less trusting of our neighbors (there’s a creep behind every door) and, well, I am glad I’m not a kid during these times. Since it is all about me, I am doing better than I deserve . . . I think, let me think some more.
* * *
I hate to be Donny Downer, but I wonder how many of the kiddies will be out this Halloween? I just checked with the National Weather Service . . . highs on Friday, October 31 (aka Halloween) 44; low 26. With a chance of rain AND snow showers.
This is nothing unheard of . . . when I donned my little sister Barb’s tee-shirt ( and when I report the words ‘Little? and ‘Barb? together, I mean little. She’s now, at her tallest, 4-foot-11) and transformed myself into the Incredible Bulk, it spit snow and rain.
It didn’t deter us from Clarkston’s ‘mean? streets (Clarkston Road, near Clintonville) of going out and collecting our candy. I do remember being miserably wet and cold.
But, now that I think about Halloween, yikes, my recollections are kinda? sparse. I remember the snow, that one Halloween and that’s about it! What happened?
I think that my not having many Halloween memories makes the first part of this Halloween column, pure bunk, poppycock, crap-ola.
* * *
I’m not sure why I don’t have more spooky Halloween memories. In general, I like Halloween. I may not be a card-toting member of the local Club O’Wicca, but, with Celtic-blood pumping through my veins, it’s natural for me to find a connection with this Christian/pagan holiday. I just don’t remember much about Halloweens past.
It was dark. I got candy.
This is getting distressing.
I am surprised Halloween experiences have not stuck with me.
The aspect of going door to door, simply repeating the mantra, ‘Trick or treat,? while holding open a sack for folks to dole out the sweets, resonates well with me. Of Irish/Scot lineage, I liked/like the idea of getting stuff that other folks paid for, for nothing. El-free-boes are great.
In a word, I guess that makes me: CHEAP.
I would have thought I would remember all the costumes and everything else about the spookiest time of the year. I mean, I like monster movies and scary books. I guess I always have.
Recently, while watching the 1941 classic werewolf movie, the Wolf Man, starring Lon Chaney, Jr., as the tormented Lawrence Talbot, I even remember something from when I first watched the movie on the Sir Graves Ghastly show. It was a Saturday afternoon in the early 1970s. The television was on Channel 2, airing was the horror-movie host (my local TV hero), Sir Graves.
When I saw the bipedal Wolfman run, I turned to Dad and asked, ‘Why does the Wolfman run on his toes??
Dad, ever the old movie buff, shook his head. ‘I don’t know, son. It could be a side effect of lycanthropy, but I couldn’t be sure. However, I bet Sir Graves knows.?
I remember that, but only two costumes out a dozen, plus outfits. Hmm?
Have a great, safe Halloween. I’m gonna? go home and cry in my candy over my long-gone memories. Better than I deserve, maybe not.

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