Memoirous

What a perfect Halloween we just had! The weather cooperated in being foggy, murdurously spooky. Water beaded on cobwebs, lurking low clouds caught on spikey pines. The sun never breaking through. Who needs news or those political ads in scary voices of the coming apocalypse. World ending, life as we know it, doom. I feel it, through the gloom, in the owl-hooted hush, the karma witches watching over us, the crazy clowns warding off enemies, keeping the bad juju away. For another day. Even in these fearful times—we were able to let go and live in a netherland,

I’ve always hated Halloween in Chicago—you would too unless you like getting hit with eggs or out-of-control-teens running wild on the streets. I know . . . I sound like an old lady fussing. For the past few years I’ve just avoided being out at night on Halloween. Kids will be kids. Except this year. I’m not sure what to expect. We’ll have fewer trick or treaters. Everyone will be masked. Candy will be delivered through a PVC pipe chute. Sort of a hands-off approach, yet still fun. But I also suspect it will be quieter, a bit lonelier on the street. Chicago under Covid lockdown felt like a ghost town, so on Halloween it will be especially creepier. Empty sidewalks under street lights. trick or treat candy chute for hands-free safe delivery

I was reminiscing with someone in their thirties, I know, what do they have to reminisce about, but this person hit the nail on the old pumpkin head. How Halloween has grown into a major American holiday. “When I was little it was just one day. Now my kids are sucked into harvest parties and activities for a whole month—not the least a whole weekend of unending trick or treating. Growing up it was monumental to carve a pumpkin. Now suburban moms buy a station wagon full and put them everywhere for decorations. Trick or treating was one night only. And, we didn’t drive around and hand-pick the best neighborhoods. We simply walked up and down the streets. We didn’t spend half a year figuring out a novelty costume. I wore what my siblings had outgrown. Ahh, simplicity. Anyway, my friend took a garbage bags of random costumes to the Syrian refugees she’s been visiting and mentoring. To say the least, the kids were beside themselves with excitement. I can’t imagine fleeing...