Halloween: Stay off my lawn!

It has become a tradition that my lovely partner, Erin, hands out candy on Halloween and I, being the loving, supportive partner, sit in the adjoining room and keep a count on how many kids come.

I even invested in a tally counter clicker thing last year so I wouldn’t have to keep track with pen and paper. Now that I think about it, I could have just used my phone. I hate how old I sound when I listen to myself, sometimes.

Anyway, I have some free time as Erin is the one doing all the work answering the door, so I figured I’d write something about this increasingly strange (for me) holiday.

Erin treats handing out candy like a business. She takes it seriously. She has a table set up with a bucket of candy by the door. In years past, she'd have two or three buckets and takes a candy out of each to give to each kid. It would be funny watching her kick one leg out to hold the door open while she reached across her body to get candy out of the buckets to give to the kids.

This year, she was proud of herself for improving the business operation by pre-bagging three pieces of candy into one bag to facilitate things. Now she doesn't have to struggle to hold the door open while trying to get candy out of three buckets. She is getting this down to a science. I can't help but feel a little disappointed at how much more efficient she is this year.

She really loves this stuff. She has an orange "trick or teach" shirt on. She is a second grade teacher.

She was raised in a family that celebrates every holiday. Around 8:30 tonight, she will be calling her mother to compare tallies. Not surprisingly, her mother keeps track of how many kids come to her door as well. I'm sure that is where Erin got it from. I wonder if her father sits, dutifully, by her mother's side like I do and counts the kids. Doubt it.

My family was never into holidays. Although I do give my mother, may she be resting in peace, credit for indulging in the tradition of her adopted land. She, unlike my dad, made an effort to adapt to American society.

I felt bad for the kids that came to our house, though. My mother gave out the worst candy. And whatever she had left over, she used the following year. I am positive there were points where she must have been handing out ten-year old Tootsie Rolls, or Caramel Cream candy. I once lost a tooth while eating one of those Caramel Creams. Damn thing got stuck on one of my teeth while I tried chewing it, and when I finally got it unstuck, my tooth came out with it.

Too bad I didn’t keep count back then of how many kids came by. It was pretty much nonstop from five in the afternoon until eight at night.

Of course, over time, less and less kids came by. I can only imagine the kids telling their parents, “I don’t want to go to that Portuguese family’s house. Their candy sucks. Its all that crappy hard candy. They never give chocolates.”

You may be wondering if I ever went out trick or treating. I know I did, at least, once. I know that because I remember some other kids knocked me over onto someone's lawn towards the end of the night and stole my candy. I think I must have been like 8- or 9-years-old at the time. Maybe that’s why I am not a big fan of Halloween.

I think that year my mother went all out and invested in a Spiderman costume for me. I couldn't believe it. I was so excited. I miss those small acts of kindness she would do, which I am sure kids today take for granted, but I never did.

I clearly remember coming home that Halloween after having my candy stolen. I was crying. The knees of my costume were ripped. My elbow was all scraped up and bloody. And I lost my Spidey mask!

The year before I got my candy stolen, I may have put a white bed sheet over my head and pretended I was a ghost. I vaguely remember one house almost refusing to give me candy because they said I put no effort into my costume. Hence, my request for a better costume the next year.

Erin just got a really good laugh when I asked her what you call that thing kids put over their heads to look like ghosts. I asked her if it was a “white bed cloth.” She looked at me, incredulously, then told me it is called a sheet. She paused for another second, then burst out laughing while giving me that “poor thing” kind of look.

It is commonplace for us to have moments like this one. I didn’t have a typical “American” upbringing, so sometimes I say things that reflect that and she pities me. She is cute when she does it, and I don’t mind it, but it does serve as a reminder that I didn't have a typical childhood.

But, yeah, that year I was Spiderman was one of the only and, definitely, the last time I dressed up for Halloween. I don’t plan on it in the future, either.

I see many of my friends get dressed up for Halloween, go to parties, and post it on social media. I admire them for all the time and effort it takes them to get into character. Do I wish I was going to costume parties myself? Do I wish I was painting up my face like Jack Sparrow? Not one bit.

Speaking of which, Erin just came back from handing out some candy to a group. She said it was older kids, and one of them had a beard. I’m sorry – I think there should be an age limit on people who go door-to-door trick or treating. Having a beard disqualifies you, immediately.

So, yeah, I've never been a big fan of Halloweens. Something about this year, though, has got me thinking more about it.

Maybe it is me getting older. Maybe it is being out of work and being alone for most of the day that has me more contemplative than ever – and that’s saying something. I have always pondered life and why people do what they do.

Another quick interlude – I just told Erin that when I am typing and I get to the bottom of the screen, I hit 'enter' a few times and then backspace back up so I am always typing from the top of a near-blank screen. I asked if she does that, too. She looked at me with that "poor thing" look again, and asked why would anyone do that. She just keeps typing.

That’s twice now within an hour I’ve gotten that look. I told her I like to feel like I am filling the screen as I type. She said, “OK, then,” as she rolls her eyes and gets back to scanning the street for more "customers."

I apologize for all these tangents. It shows how scattered and unfocused my brain is. Maybe this isn't a good idea writing this article with all this going on. Or maybe it is.

She just flung her arms in the air after scanning the street, saying, “Where is everybody? This is sad.”

Which is a good segue for me. Like I said earlier, when I was younger, it wouldn’t have surprised me if my mother had over two hundred kids come to our door. It was nonstop for three hours.

Last year, Erin had 62. I counted and saved it on my phone. The record was five years ago, pre-COVID, when we had 103 people come to our door. Erin’s mother usually gets around 40. Erin's parents live about thirty minutes away from us in a more secluded, dare I say, affluent neighborhood.

Why the precipitous decline? It seems like the Halloween spirit is greater than ever, yet no one goes trick or treating anymore. 

Times have changed. Safety is a bigger concern now. Back in my day, my mother trusted me to go trick or treating by myself. Maybe she shouldn’t have, then I wouldn’t have gotten knocked down by some punks and had my candy stolen.

There was also more of a sense of community back then. Up to the time I was a teenager, I knew everyone within a four block radius of my house. I'm pretty sure I had gone inside every home on my street.

Today, as I take a second to ponder it, I only know or have interacted with two of the homeowners on my street. They are ones I’ve known my whole life. Forget about the adjoining blocks. I wouldn’t even be able to tell you what those homeowners look like.

I hate to pin a lot of today’s issues on social media, but when the shoe fits. Today’s generation doesn’t know how to interact on a personal level. Physically going to a person’s house, ringing their doorbell, and having a verbal interaction with someone for a few seconds is alien to this generation.

Trust me, I am listening to how rude and inept some of these children and adults are as they come to our door as I write this. Many don't know to greet Erin with good eye contact and humility, or to be grateful before leaving and say, "Thank you."

Another thing that has caught my attention this holiday season is the amount of homes that are adorned with enormous Halloween displays.

Erin and I have another tradition around Christmas time of picking a random night and just driving around the state looking for the best Christmas light displays. We’ll drive for an hour or more sometimes.

We plan it out. I will do my research online. Many times news stations will post a list of the best displays in the state. Then we'll map out the best order to visit the homes. Erin will have the list in front of her as I am driving and we'll just punch in the addresses in the GPS.

I enjoy it. A beautifully done home will make my jaw drop and make me feel like a kid again. Rudolph? Santa? Frosty? How can you not help but be happy when you look at them.

Then, of course, you have the homes that are tastefully decorated with an emphasis on the true meaning of Christmas. I don't consider myself overly religious, but times like those I do feel a little spiritual and contemplative.

Overall, it is just a lot of positivity.

Now contrast that with Halloween. When did everyone start doing Halloween house? There almost as commonplace as Christmas lights now.

And when did these Halloween displays get so elaborate? And when they get so gruesome? And humongous?

Like what is it, this year, with these enormous skeletons in people’s yards? I’ll be driving down the street, come around a curve, past a tall bush, and bam – there’s this 20-foot skeleton just standing in someone’s yard. It’s not so much scary as it is startling. It is just dumb to me. Where are there 20-foot people for there to be 20-foot skeletal remains? Sorry, my mind can't suspend reality like that.

It is just an eye sore. It has no rhyme or reason. It is just big for the sake of being big.

But there are homes that really go all out. I’ll admit, at first I thought they were very well done.

But then I thought to myself – What am I saying? Well done?

Oh, look at that cool decapitated body! Is that a bloody severed hand? Cool. Oh, look, a guy wielding a chainsaw. Hey, look, is that a zombie eating humans? Awesome.

Listen to ourselves. What are we celebrating? What is wrong with us? 

Again, I know how I sound. I sound like a party pooper.

Loosen up. Have some fun with it.

Maybe it has to do with all the deaths and funerals that I have had to endure in recent years, including my mother and several aunts and uncles. I find myself, this year, being disturbed when I see all these reminders of death all around me. It depresses me even more.

Every time I have to drive somewhere, it is like a nightmare in which everywhere I turn I am reminded of death. I am reminded of friends and family of mine that are no longer with us – with me. They have transitioned, but where and into what?

Are they zombies now? Do they turn into vampires? Or do they turn into ghosts wandering aimlessly across the world or haunting locations that they found dear in life?

Is that what happens after we die? I don't want to picture my mother as a zombie or a vampire.

If you stop to think about it, that belief has as much credence as there being a God. What proof do we have of a God? There may be more evidence of ghosts and vampires than there are of God?

It, literally, gives me a bit of PTSD every time I see a representation of a dead body – especially a decomposing dead body – on someone's lawn. I have a hard time visiting my mother at the cemetery now because I can't help but picture in my mind what her body must look like now that she has been dead and decomposing for three years.

I know this is all weird, but these are some of the thoughts that are being stirred up in my head. That is why I am growing to despise Halloween. Maybe it has become a victim of the times we live in now.

Halloween was different back in the day. It wasn't so in your face. It wasn't so vulgar.

It was a more innocent time when I was growing up. Columbine hadn't happened yet. 9/11 hadn't happened. There hadn't been videos of al-Qeada beheading journalists. The internet hadn't been invented.

When I was younger, Halloween meant watching "It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown" with the family.

Maybe there would be one movie to hit the theatres that would be considered taboo for kids my age. Usually it would be a new Friday the 13th movie. One year it was the movie Halloween. Another year it was Nightmare on Elm Street. But horror movies were few and far between. It was kind of an event when a horror movie came out.

Not like today. It feels like horror movies are mass produced. Anyone with a smart phone can film a horror movie. It doesn't even have to be a movie. People can post gruesome short videos and have them go viral on social media. The only thing we had that went "viral" when I was younger was a cold.

In this day of political correctness and “wokeness,” I am beginning to wonder how it has become acceptable to celebrate slashing people’s throats, chopping off arms, and decapitating people? Especially with all the increased violence in the world and our streets, all the wars, and all the mass shootings. I just don’t think it is cool to see (fake) bloody dead bodies so prominently strewn across peoples’ yards.

Sadly, we are getting close to a time when everyone has been affected by a mass shooting or murder, or knows someone who has. I never thought I would be one of those, but my cousin lost a granddaughter in the Michigan school shooting a couple of years ago. Her daughter, the mother of the victim, is still grieving today as much as she did when it happened.

Imagine her reaction if she goes online and sees a video posted of some teenage girl pretending to lay dead on the floor. Or, God forbid, imagine if you are the family of some hostage who was beheaded by a terrorist and you drive by someone's home and see a decapitated mannequin in the yard.

It wasn’t so bad, back in the day, when some people might decorate their yard with a fake cemetery with a couple cardboard gravestones. Maybe they'd pin a ghost cut-out on a tree. Maybe they'd put a fake black cat on the front steps.

Pumpkins used to be a nice simple symbol of Halloween. Carving pumpkins was always fun. It was a nice innocent activity, devoid of any violence, to gather family and friends together.

But now we have grinning skeletons emerging from the top of people’s homes. We have houses splashed with fake blood. We might walk by someone's house and be spooked by a sensor that sets off a blood-curdling scream. Kids walking to school pass by front yards inundated with some of the ugliest, bloodiest monsters imaginable, or, in my case, unimaginable.

Don't underestimate the damage all these negative images have on kids, and adults. The mere fact I had the thought of writing this article, and spent the time to write this article, shows that it has had a negative impact on my psyche. These images are all subliminal timebombs that get imprinted in our subconsciousness.

Okay, okay. Talk about making a mountain out of a molehill, right? Maybe not. Small things add up.

But, anyway, it is almost 10:15 now. I'll get off my soapbox. It is wayyy past my bedtime. I need to go heat up a nice glass of warm milk, put on my old man pajamas, read a little of my book, then put on my eye mask, and get some shuteye.

And remember, stay off my lawn!