(no subject)
The calendar says October, and my thoughts turn to Halloween.
Early memories, vague images of carving pumpkins, the gooey slimy squish of the pumpkin seeds and guts. Too young to do any carving myself, my job is to spoon out the gourds onto a newspaper that probably failed to protect the floor. Clearer memories of other, slightly older yet still young years of carving my own triangle-eyed Jack O' Lanterns (and watching them turn green and black over the next week or so, sped along by a spell of overnight temps below zero, threatening to cover my Halloween costume with a jacket). Even growing pumpkins when we lived on the farm, always wanting to grow one of those giant pumpkins that the short Minnesota growing season isn't that good for, and we wouldn't have been able to move anyway. Throwing extra pumpkins over the fence to the cows, who ate them and must have spit out the seeds, because we had some volunteer pumpkin plants growing in that spot the next year.
Halloween costumes. Sometimes months in the planning on my part, the work of several hours at the sewing machine on my mother's part. After Halloween, all the costume bits went into the "costume box" that resided in my closet, to be raided throughout the year for whatever reason, and particularly when it came time to start planning for the next Halloween. Not just my costumes, but often my older brother's, too. It had bits of clown, two vampire capes (and a set of plastic lisp and drool-inducing fangs "I want to thuck your blood), a werewolf made in part from a plastic Chewbacca mask, a Smurf hat, and various fake spiders, snakes, and other things.
Halloween parties, whether it be the church parties (because the Protestants weren't having a war on Halloween), school parties (decorated with construction paper pumpkins, tissue paper ghosts, and stick-figure drawn haunted house window scenes of black cats on fences and witches flying on broomsticks in front of full moons), the town hall, once we moved out into the country, or parties held out in the barn (the decoration of which was my first exposure to fake cobwebs, and for which I painted eyes on the walls in glow-in-the-dark paint in the side building). One of those early parties, from when I was 6 or so, and the kid who had dressed as the Incredible Hulk had to wait until last to try bobbing for apples, the tub turning entirely green when he did.
Trick or treating. Ah, trick or treating. Walking up and down the long, long streets of that small northern Minnesota city (truly up and down, the city sits on a slope), filling the gigantic plastic pumpkin bucket (my brothers, at first, and mine a few years later) or the smaller one of my own. The slight disappointment of getting pennies from some people, seeing other kids out in costume, the year we were allowed to go up to doors by ourselves while Dad waited at the end of the sidewalk (with a bit of un-admitted trepidation for a kid who was a little shy about talking to people). The disappointment of those times it snowed, but going out nonetheless. Being a bit sad that I was too old to go trick or treating anymore, but still getting to dress up as monsters for a party (I was well beyond the Smurf costume at this point). Being down at my aunt and uncle's for one Halloween, a fact I didn't like much until my uncle took us to a "haunted house" that was really cool.
The post- Trick or Treating inspection of loot, both my own inspection of "what did I get" and my parents' inspection of making sure I didn't get any needles or razor blades or tampered candy (never happened, and it was only years later that I stumbled upon the research that some people did showing that the only cases of poisoned candy have actually been parents tampering with their own children's candy, or kids playing a hoax with their own haul for attention. Media hype and unfounded fear). Separating out the pennies (boring), the black or orange wrapped supposedly peanut butter but more like bland cardboard tasting things that just stuck to the roof of your mouth- luckily my mother liked those, making for a happy medium for both of us in choices of what to take when stealing from my Halloween stash while I was at school), and rationing out the Sweet Tarts, the chocolate bars (which shrunk year by year- we used to get the full sized bars once upon a time, later it was all the mini-bars, which were still twice as big as those mini-square things they have now), the pixie sticks (which do NOT make good Kool-aid by stirring them in water. Don't listen to older brothers), the candy corn (good at first, but after you've had a few, you never want to eat any more ever, ever again), the Tootsie rolls, Tootsie pops, bubble gum pops, and dum dums (SCORE! if it was a root beer flavored one), the lemonheads, the rare and elusive root beer barrel, and that one year that my brother got a giant two pack of hostess cupcakes when we went to one of his friends houses and I didn't get one (I would've preferred a twinkie or an apple pie, actually, but I didn't get any of those, either).
Watching the Disney version of the Legend of Sleepy Hollow and being a little scared of that thrown pumpkin/horseman's head at the end; The Great Pumpkin Charlie Brown and fearing that maybe I, too, would get a rock in my Halloween haul (never happened). Heading into University years, and the little bit of buildup to seeing The Nightmare Before Christmas, which looked like it might return some of that Halloween magic that had drifted away a bit as University Halloween parties turned into drink fests for those who drank, the ranks of which I had not yet joined. New Halloween traditions of Young Frankenstein. Halloween becoming a big event again with the University Theatre Department's Haunted house (during which I learned some real makeup skills that would leave my younger self in awe). Post University, being unmarried with no kids, and Halloween sadly becoming a smaller affair again, with maybe one small party to go to.
Moving to Japan, working in the English school, where Halloween was an excuse for a school party event. The first year, no adults dressed up (aside from me, and that was itself a simple costume), but the Halloween party built up bigger every year as more people started getting into it and the costumes kept getting better and better, to the point I was using those makeup skills from the University Theatre Department. After I moved, I hear the Halloween parties have shrunk down a bit, becoming smaller affairs again, which is sad, but I had moved on to helping out with Halloween parties in a different city, which I believe I've discussed here before.
The last couple of years, in addition to the events I've attended, I've been looking for good Halloween stories on my Kindle. I've found a wide range from horrible to pretty good. I'd like to add a couple of books to my reading list, such as Something Wicked This Way Comes or The Halloween Tree, but apparently Ray Bradbury was a bit of a curmudgeon when it came to these new-fangled e-reader technology whatsits, because he wouldn't allow e-versions of his work, and that hasn't changed much since he died this past year. Apparently he relented slightly for Fahrenheit 451 before he died, but that's about it. This has even resulted in one collection of short stories I bought and downloaded that had to insert a single page explaining why one story (Bradbury's, of course) in the print version was missing in the e-book collection. I'd like to add him to my list of Halloween reminiscences, but I can't at this point. I'm thinking of putting a few of my writing attempts together for a small Halloween collection; things like my sole Zombie Travel Guide entry, the Zombie self defense article (maybe expand to include vampires and werewolves?), one or two other old things, and maybe one or two new ones that are still half-baked and fomenting (or maybe fermenting?) on the back burners of the brain.
Early memories, vague images of carving pumpkins, the gooey slimy squish of the pumpkin seeds and guts. Too young to do any carving myself, my job is to spoon out the gourds onto a newspaper that probably failed to protect the floor. Clearer memories of other, slightly older yet still young years of carving my own triangle-eyed Jack O' Lanterns (and watching them turn green and black over the next week or so, sped along by a spell of overnight temps below zero, threatening to cover my Halloween costume with a jacket). Even growing pumpkins when we lived on the farm, always wanting to grow one of those giant pumpkins that the short Minnesota growing season isn't that good for, and we wouldn't have been able to move anyway. Throwing extra pumpkins over the fence to the cows, who ate them and must have spit out the seeds, because we had some volunteer pumpkin plants growing in that spot the next year.
Halloween costumes. Sometimes months in the planning on my part, the work of several hours at the sewing machine on my mother's part. After Halloween, all the costume bits went into the "costume box" that resided in my closet, to be raided throughout the year for whatever reason, and particularly when it came time to start planning for the next Halloween. Not just my costumes, but often my older brother's, too. It had bits of clown, two vampire capes (and a set of plastic lisp and drool-inducing fangs "I want to thuck your blood), a werewolf made in part from a plastic Chewbacca mask, a Smurf hat, and various fake spiders, snakes, and other things.
Halloween parties, whether it be the church parties (because the Protestants weren't having a war on Halloween), school parties (decorated with construction paper pumpkins, tissue paper ghosts, and stick-figure drawn haunted house window scenes of black cats on fences and witches flying on broomsticks in front of full moons), the town hall, once we moved out into the country, or parties held out in the barn (the decoration of which was my first exposure to fake cobwebs, and for which I painted eyes on the walls in glow-in-the-dark paint in the side building). One of those early parties, from when I was 6 or so, and the kid who had dressed as the Incredible Hulk had to wait until last to try bobbing for apples, the tub turning entirely green when he did.
Trick or treating. Ah, trick or treating. Walking up and down the long, long streets of that small northern Minnesota city (truly up and down, the city sits on a slope), filling the gigantic plastic pumpkin bucket (my brothers, at first, and mine a few years later) or the smaller one of my own. The slight disappointment of getting pennies from some people, seeing other kids out in costume, the year we were allowed to go up to doors by ourselves while Dad waited at the end of the sidewalk (with a bit of un-admitted trepidation for a kid who was a little shy about talking to people). The disappointment of those times it snowed, but going out nonetheless. Being a bit sad that I was too old to go trick or treating anymore, but still getting to dress up as monsters for a party (I was well beyond the Smurf costume at this point). Being down at my aunt and uncle's for one Halloween, a fact I didn't like much until my uncle took us to a "haunted house" that was really cool.
The post- Trick or Treating inspection of loot, both my own inspection of "what did I get" and my parents' inspection of making sure I didn't get any needles or razor blades or tampered candy (never happened, and it was only years later that I stumbled upon the research that some people did showing that the only cases of poisoned candy have actually been parents tampering with their own children's candy, or kids playing a hoax with their own haul for attention. Media hype and unfounded fear). Separating out the pennies (boring), the black or orange wrapped supposedly peanut butter but more like bland cardboard tasting things that just stuck to the roof of your mouth- luckily my mother liked those, making for a happy medium for both of us in choices of what to take when stealing from my Halloween stash while I was at school), and rationing out the Sweet Tarts, the chocolate bars (which shrunk year by year- we used to get the full sized bars once upon a time, later it was all the mini-bars, which were still twice as big as those mini-square things they have now), the pixie sticks (which do NOT make good Kool-aid by stirring them in water. Don't listen to older brothers), the candy corn (good at first, but after you've had a few, you never want to eat any more ever, ever again), the Tootsie rolls, Tootsie pops, bubble gum pops, and dum dums (SCORE! if it was a root beer flavored one), the lemonheads, the rare and elusive root beer barrel, and that one year that my brother got a giant two pack of hostess cupcakes when we went to one of his friends houses and I didn't get one (I would've preferred a twinkie or an apple pie, actually, but I didn't get any of those, either).
Watching the Disney version of the Legend of Sleepy Hollow and being a little scared of that thrown pumpkin/horseman's head at the end; The Great Pumpkin Charlie Brown and fearing that maybe I, too, would get a rock in my Halloween haul (never happened). Heading into University years, and the little bit of buildup to seeing The Nightmare Before Christmas, which looked like it might return some of that Halloween magic that had drifted away a bit as University Halloween parties turned into drink fests for those who drank, the ranks of which I had not yet joined. New Halloween traditions of Young Frankenstein. Halloween becoming a big event again with the University Theatre Department's Haunted house (during which I learned some real makeup skills that would leave my younger self in awe). Post University, being unmarried with no kids, and Halloween sadly becoming a smaller affair again, with maybe one small party to go to.
Moving to Japan, working in the English school, where Halloween was an excuse for a school party event. The first year, no adults dressed up (aside from me, and that was itself a simple costume), but the Halloween party built up bigger every year as more people started getting into it and the costumes kept getting better and better, to the point I was using those makeup skills from the University Theatre Department. After I moved, I hear the Halloween parties have shrunk down a bit, becoming smaller affairs again, which is sad, but I had moved on to helping out with Halloween parties in a different city, which I believe I've discussed here before.
The last couple of years, in addition to the events I've attended, I've been looking for good Halloween stories on my Kindle. I've found a wide range from horrible to pretty good. I'd like to add a couple of books to my reading list, such as Something Wicked This Way Comes or The Halloween Tree, but apparently Ray Bradbury was a bit of a curmudgeon when it came to these new-fangled e-reader technology whatsits, because he wouldn't allow e-versions of his work, and that hasn't changed much since he died this past year. Apparently he relented slightly for Fahrenheit 451 before he died, but that's about it. This has even resulted in one collection of short stories I bought and downloaded that had to insert a single page explaining why one story (Bradbury's, of course) in the print version was missing in the e-book collection. I'd like to add him to my list of Halloween reminiscences, but I can't at this point. I'm thinking of putting a few of my writing attempts together for a small Halloween collection; things like my sole Zombie Travel Guide entry, the Zombie self defense article (maybe expand to include vampires and werewolves?), one or two other old things, and maybe one or two new ones that are still half-baked and fomenting (or maybe fermenting?) on the back burners of the brain.