I am convinced this is one of my friends. Abby?
The kids in my neighborhood suck at Halloween. Plain and
simple. They’re terrible at what should be considered by most American kids as
the best holiday. Ever. Sure you get to tear open boxes filled with the new and
shiny at Christmas. And sure you get to search and destroy eggs filled with
candy and money at Easter. But with Halloween, you get pumpkin carving,
creative costumes, pumpkin smashing, scary shit, a shit-ton of free candy,
flaming poop, and the perfect night to murder someone without anyone noticing
for a good long while.
Is that real blood? No, it must be fake blood. Yup, he
moved. It’s totally fake blood. (trailing off) I wonder if Breaking Bad will be
on sale for Black Friday.
But can we stay on point for one fucking minute here? Kids!
At least the ones in my zip code, have destroyed this most sacred holiday.
Take, for instance, my pumpkin.
My Pumpkin
I spent a good hour and a half carving it and me thinks I
done good.
It's alright if you don't know what this is. It's a pumpkin.
The carving, however, is something you will most definitely
recognize from this blahg entry.
The 31st rolls around and I rest it in my front windowsill,
its candle burning like a beacon, calling in those hungry souls for a feast of
sweets – well, not a feast: “You may have two.” Now, this is a pretty sexy
pumpkin. But am I about to hoard it all to myself? Fuck no. After it has served it's purpose, I, like a good
servant to fun, plop it on a chair on my stoop, where it sits on display. And
there it waits, to be hoisted above an adolescent head and smashed onto the
pavement with the rage of teenage angst. The next day I find it still waiting.
And the next day. It’s been over a week, and now I’m just looking like a
pathetic homeowner who can’t let Halloween go.
Thanks kids. You’re making me look dumb.
No, I said dumb. Not smart. Dumb.
Or maybe they have a good excuse.
I live in a pretty shady part of Denver, where you hear
things and you read things. You hear gunshots in the summer and read stories
about whom those shots led into the afterlife. We’re in Bloods territory, a
stone’s throw away from where the Crips burned down an entire shopping mall
after one of their leaders was killed by the Bloods. Last month a helicopter
was painting our dark streets with a spotlight, looking for an alleged bank
robber. It’s an off day when you don’t see
a squad car stalking the avenues. And just last week, I stepped onto my stoop
while waiting for the morning bus to see my neighbor’s house decorated in
police tape.
So yeah, maybe the kids aren’t too keen on nighttime
tomfoolery. Or maybe it’s just too cold.
No, fuck that! The pumpkin is just one facet in why they
suck at Halloween.
The Words
Super simple shit here, kids. You have to say three words: “Trick,” “or,” and “Treat.” Yes, I’m white. And yes I live in a predominantly African American neighborhood. But that’s no reason to forget your lines. You’re not getting the treats until you say it!
Back in the day, we would shout that shit as soon as the door cracked. We had places to be. If we were going to make a dent in filling our pillowcases there were two things we needed 1) to be clear and concise in our request and 2) a light-weight and flexible costume we could run in.
Amateurs!
Oh, grow up!
The Costumes
“What are you supposed to be?” I ask a 10-year-old boy.
“A wolf.”
“Well, you look nothing like a wolf.” He’s dressed like it’s
Saturday. “Where’s your costume?”
“Ahhh, it’s back at the house.”
What the fuck? Now you’re just rubbing it in my face. What
am I, the easy white guy in the neighborhood who will give any person at my
door candy? The fuck I am! Rewind to last Halloween.
“Trick or treat!” says a man in his late 30s who’s dressed like it's Friday.
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
He’s not. And he wants candy.
“No, I’m not giving you candy," I say with a smile. "Get the fuck outta here.” I
shut the door, half expecting to wake up with a house covered in egg. But this
amateur doesn’t even have the decency to paint my bricks Yoke Yellow.
Ha. Ha. Real funny. You know what's not funny?
Growing up thinking woman chest is the same as
man butt. It's not, thank you.
Now, though there were a lot of kids without costumes, some
dressed the part. And this, my friends, is the best fucking part about
Halloween: seeing cute little kids in their costumes.
“I’m a Flamingo!” one little girl tells me.
“You’re damn right you are!” I want to scream at her. “Now
get the fuck over here, you bundle of pink, so I can squeeze the cute right out
of you– Don’t touch your child? Sorry. I get a little carried away.”
And not every kid was without a sense of humor.
“What are you supposed to be?” I mockingly ask a teenager
overripe in age and completely costume-less.
“I’m a Nigga Turtle,” he says half under his breath. His
friends laugh.
I nod while calculating the amount of time it will take me
to casually walk back into my home, shut the door, and shout laugh myself
hoarse.
Originally a black and white cartoon from the 50s, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles was
shelved for nearly 40 years after failing to test well with children in white suburbia.
It should also be noted that I totally made that up.
The Adults
Maybe I’m being too hard on the kids. Maybe it’s the adults.
I’ve already mentioned last year’s candy craving solicitor of sweets. But I
haven’t mentioned–
“How old are you?” A standard question if you feel someone’s
too old to be doing this shit.
“I’m 13,” he says while hovering over his brother who’s the
perfect age for doing this shit.
“How old are you?”
“I’m their mother,” says a masked woman, just before holding out her pillowcase for my treats.
Well, (sigh), at least she was in full costume.
...
All in all, it was a flipping great Halloween. I had to open
a second bag of candy because I have no willpower and ate half of the first
bag. Twix! DAMN TWIX! I saw a lot of
cuties that made my heart melt. LIKE THE TWIX IN MY MOUTH! And I got to carve a pumpkin, which I haven’t done in
a whi– TWIX, I’M NOT DONE TALKING ABOUT TWIX YET! And
though several kids proved they suck at Halloween, they probably got a lot of
candy and had a lot of fun, which is what this is all about. And if at least
one of those pieces of candy was a Twix…
