Trick or... Trunk?

I admit it. I didn't get into Halloween this year. Not feeling very festive, in light of recent personal events (3rd miscarriage in a row. yay me), but I at least thought the rest of the world might be festive, and I had kind of hoped that a little bit of the joy of America's annual "Fun Day" might creep its way over to my sad little corner of self-pity land.

Not so much.

I'm not one of those people who thinks that Halloween is "just for kids" (although I do miss the kids-only aspect of Trick-or-Treating). When I have the energy, I can decorate my house (and my self) to rival other "mid-range" Halloween aficionados. I get a great kick out of seeing other people taking Halloween seriously by not taking themselves too seriously. If that makes sense. This year was more than a little bit disappointing for me, Halloween-wise. I attribute this (in part) to being stuck in an office at the most boring job on the planet.

At my last job, Halloween was The Big Day of the year. We had contests (with nice prizes), games, raffles, catered lunch, activities, merriment, you name it. This year I took no real notice of Halloween and decided not to dress up for work. And it's a good thing, because NOT A SOUL wore a Halloween costume here. Not one. With the exception of a funny hat that my boss wore for a grand total of 5 minutes, and maybe some people wearing orange t-shirts, nobody would have known it was Halloween here. Not that I think everybody should be forced to celebrate Halloween (or even call it an "observable" holiday), but.... When you have a good reason to get a little bit silly and throw a party or two, why not just do it? For one day out of the year, can we be a little light-hearted? I take comfort in the fact that this doesn't happen everywhere. But I sure hope it's not a growing trend. What a sad bunch of fuddy-duddies. (P.S. What's a girl gotta do to get a piece of chocolate around here?! For the love.)

So, to further enhance the hideousness that was, in fact, just another Wednesday, I ended up going over to the church for the neighborhood "Trunk or Treat." This is our community's way of discouraging people from interacting with and/or trusting their neighbors, especially if said neighbors do not attend the same church. (ahhh, the satisfying crunch of Christianity.) We had a grand total of ZERO Trick-or-Treaters come to the house. This is because all of the neighborhood kids were herded into the uncomfortably noisy, fluorescent-lit "safety net" of the gym at the meetinghouse. At least in this neighborhood (unlike our last), the invitation did not impose costume limitations ("no witches/zombies/monsters, no blood, no masks, no cross-dressing"), which actually allowed for some creativity and self expression (case in point, a young dad who is a nurse at the hospital dressed up like a female nurse from the '50s. White stockings and all. It was delightful).

I sat there like a dope, handing out my Tootsie Roll pops and Junior Mints to the same kids over and over and over again (there's only so much candy you can collect in 10 minutes when mom and dad won't let you go outside after dark). I fought back bitterness and dismay at seeing joyful, pregnant moms and fat little babies dressed like pumpkins. Why do I need this in my life? Halloween used to be the best holiday. I can still remember the anticipation of waiting for that first whisper of dusk so we could finally get out of the house and let the festivities begin. Dad would start the "spooky sounds" tape on the stereo by the door. Mom would make sure we ate our sensible dinner before we set foot out the door, even though we'd been snitching from the candy dish ever since we got home from school. Last-minute touches to the "perfect" costume and face-paint. I would try to contain my excitement until I met up with my friends and we could officially hit every house in the neighborhood (and beyond). I can still feel the thrill of walking through the neighbors' homemade spook alleys and being the first of my group to shout, "Trick or Treat!" as the doors opened. The smell of pumpkin guts, candles and wet leaves. The wind whipping my costume out of control. Sticky fingers. The wonder and intrigue of strange, costumed children running up and down the sidewalks ("Who are you?" "What are you?"). The feel of my candy bag (and my feet) getting heavier and heavier as the evening wore on. Collapsing on the living room floor at the end of the night, cold and spent and giddy as I reveled in my treasures. Charlie Brown on TV. Sorting and trading. Falling asleep with my costume on. Dad stealing my Mars bars.

I lament the fact that the children I met last night will come away from this Halloween with nothing more than an easily-won (rather than gleefully-earned) sugar-buzz, never recognizing the fact that their own "loving" parents have willfully robbed them of one of childhood's most enchanting rituals by turning Halloween into this abominable, watered-down atrocity. In twenty years, when they look back on their childhood, Halloween will just be another day. Nothing special. Certainly nothing fun. They won't even bother to dress up at work. And they have "Trunk or Treat" to blame.