Ritual Begging

       Halloween: Originally based on the fire festival of Samhain, “All Hallows’ Even” is an ancient pagan celebration honoring the dead. The veil between the worlds was believed to be thinnest on this day and, as evil spirits would occasionally surface, people wore disguises to protect themselves, and scare off the demons. They would also leave treats on their doorsteps with the hope of appeasing the wayward spirits….(which I suppose could be seen as an appropriate parallel for some children today….)

       Do my kids know this? The meaning of the madness? I have indeed spoken to them about the origin of the day, but they looked perplexed and a little anxious, as if I was a crazy witch just trying to take the fun out of the whole event. Party pooper. Killjoy.

        “Maybe in your day mom, but these days it’s so different. You wouldn’t understand. No one sets their table for their dead grandmother. We just go out and get butt-loads of candy.”

       Butt-loads? Costumes aren’t even really that important to them, because the outfit doesn’t have anything to do with who scores the most goodies. (Location, location, location, my friends, is not just for real estate anymore.) Not that I want them to go around sacrificing animals in big bonfires or anything, but shouldn’t there be more to the night than raiding neighborhoods, ritualistic begging, and eating chocolate until you throw up? Maybe not. Could be worse.

       But where the kids lack in costume enthusiasm, the adults seem to fill the gap just fine. I guess disguising yourself as a witch, cat or the mother from Psycho can break the boredom and add some adventure to the situation, but I find it so amusing to see where and when people join in. It doesn’t happen just on October 31^st, but during the entire week leading up to the big day people are taking on altered roles, adorning fantastical outfits and pretending to be someone or something else. It’s a practice that’s fine if you’re headed to a costume party, but I saw this older lady in the gym a couple of days ago, wearing a gigantic, stuffed furry spider in her hair. There she was…on the recumbent bike, spinning away….with that upholstered, natty thing bouncing all over the place. The eight black fuzzy legs chaotically flapped up and down as she peddled, and I couldn’t help but wonder how the heck her scalp would feel after her work out. Okay, so she was in the spirit of it all, but the venue and occasion for her display was a little ridiculous. Besides, it was 4 days before Halloween. Did that spider live in her hair for those 4 days? She must have been waiting all year just to adorn that arachnid.

       I saw several other people walking around in strange outfits this last week too. Probably wouldn’t have batted an eye if I were in San Francisco, but seeing the guy in the 1978 green pick up truck, dressed as a bumble bee, was a little freaky. I was really hoping there was a party going on somewhere…at 10am…at the lumber yard….because I truly feared for his masculinity. And I can’t imagine how serious the bank meeting would be when the CEO is dressed up as a sumo wrestler. Maybe as adults we look for any outlet to break free from our mundane lives…and relish the idea of trying on a new persona. (Guess that guy has always wondered what it would be like to be a queen…..bee.)

       And when did buying costumes become the way to outfit for the ghoulish night? Whether Kmart, Albertsons or the corner store, there are piles of poorly made synthetic costumes stacked up and ready to wear. Where’s the creativity in that? If you’re supposed to be fending off demon spirits, wouldn’t you want to put a little more effort into the process? One store I went into had five aisles dedicated to Halloween paraphernalia  …..enough to clothe a few orphanages in China…where the stuff was probably manufactured to begin with.

       I got into a ‘discussion’ with my kids the other day because I wouldn’t buy them any sort of pre-thought out costume. I told them that they could create and design costumes themselves, with the stuff that is in the three costume boxes that we have. With all the disguises and props, I was sure a little tweaking and creativity could yield something fabulous! “That’s not how things are done these days”, I was told…again, and would I be willing to spend a maximum of $10 for a sequined devil tail? Sequined devil tail? Have devils gone disco now?

       In my trick or treating days, our costumes were made. Perhaps it was my rural upbringing, but I don’t ever remember going to a store to buy Halloween costumes or props. It was clear: you and your mother selected from the few standard acceptable choices: Pirate, Cowboy, Indian, Old Lady or Devil, straying slightly from the stereotypes in order to be a true original. And if you got to the big night without a costume, you’d throw an old sheet over your head, cut out some eye-holes and away you’d go. Simple, yet still homemade. I remember my mother sewing, stuffing and painting us up, to create a fat farmer or a bulging old lady. We excitedly worked on our get-ups for days, hoping that ours would be the best and trigger a lot of ‘wows, oohs and aahhs’, but knew that at least we’d be absolutely unique. And it was fun to look at peoples costumes too….because they were all different… even though the subject matter may have sometimes been a little repetitious and cliché. Has our youth culture become so uninspired and inartistic that they rely on some overseas sweatshop to tell them what they should dress as for Halloween? Come on kids….find that imagination that existed prior to computers dousing your creativity. I shouldn’t complain….I hate to sew….

       And the candy thing? We didn’t have a lot of trick or treat options to begin with, living in a remote lake area, and after my mom would drive us from house to house (too far apart to walk), we’d come home bored and frozen and with not much to show for our efforts. My goody bag was usually barely filled with caramel apples, home baked cookies or bars, and those horrid hard candies that tasted like butterscotch and dirt. . Occasionally I’d get a chocolate bar…a regular big one….or some Sweet Tarts, but those were up there on the trading scale, which was how we always ended our night. I loved the caramel apples the best, until some creep in Detroit had to put razor blades in some kid’s apple, effectively ruining it for all of us. After that, my mom would throw out anything not pre-packaged or sealed, which would render us nearly candy-less after it was all said and done. I suppose there was some relief when, after my brother fell off of a ledge one Halloween night.....knocking himself unconscious, and necessitating an emergency room visit....we opted not to struggle with the event anymore. Our jobs then became to dole out candy to the 2 or 3 kids that made it to our house in the middle of nowhere. Sometimes to raise the level of excitement, my brother and I would dress up in our finest gothic creations and wield bread knives and fireplace pokers when we’d answer the door, hoping to scare the pants off of some poor kid. Good times. Maybe that’s why only a few kids ever showed up…..

       So tonight, I inspected the kids as they left the house. I noticed my daughter had the perfect mixture of a homemade costume and pre-fab props (I didn’t have any sequins….!), and my son was disguised as a Peruvian dancer?….a masked Greek?.....a robber? They definitely looked original, and by no means like anything I saw in the stores. I was proud of them. And as I saw them out the door and handed them huge canvas bags for their goodies, I looked them in the eyes….and with the encouragement of a professional coach said, “Make sure you get an extra big butt-loads of chocolate bars guys! I’m counting on you…!”

       And they will. They’re not stupid: They know what makes Mama happy...