Have you noticed the dwindling numbers of trick-or-treaters. There used to be so many. What keeps them away now? Fear?
Mike at Ocular Fusion thinks he knows.
We rarely know our neighbors. When we get out of our cars, we're on our phones. When we're leaving, if we're girlfridays who blog but shall otherwise remain nameless, we're in a hurry. Packed like sardines into pre-fabricated, self-contained villages, we're buried in gadgets designed to give us more time but we don't seem to use it to meet the souls that live 15 feet away from us.
Trick-or-treating is a final vestige of the good old days, such as they were. We've lost the art of being neighborly and I long to see it recovered. Halloween may have started as a foolish, sinister occasion to taunt homeowners, but let's let bygones by bygones.
When someone arrives at your doorstep, the transaction involves no text message, no email, no phone call. On Halloween it is a pair of earnest blue eyes and an unabashed desire for chocolate. We have candy and we want to give it to a human being who shyly, elegantly asks.
Mike at Ocular Fusion thinks he knows.
We rarely know our neighbors. When we get out of our cars, we're on our phones. When we're leaving, if we're girlfridays who blog but shall otherwise remain nameless, we're in a hurry. Packed like sardines into pre-fabricated, self-contained villages, we're buried in gadgets designed to give us more time but we don't seem to use it to meet the souls that live 15 feet away from us.
Trick-or-treating is a final vestige of the good old days, such as they were. We've lost the art of being neighborly and I long to see it recovered. Halloween may have started as a foolish, sinister occasion to taunt homeowners, but let's let bygones by bygones.
When someone arrives at your doorstep, the transaction involves no text message, no email, no phone call. On Halloween it is a pair of earnest blue eyes and an unabashed desire for chocolate. We have candy and we want to give it to a human being who shyly, elegantly asks.
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3 Comments:
Et tu, girlfriday?
Thanks for the link (right back atcha).
You work on Idaho, and I'll work on the Deep South. Maybe between the two of us, we can get this done.
Chin up. And pass the Tootsie Rolls.
Friday, November 03, 2006
It might do your heart good to know a 2C friend had more trick-or-treaters than ever at her home...
Friday, November 03, 2006
I even noticed less than the normal number of masked marauders traipsing up and down Harrison Boulevard here in good 'ol' Boise. In past years, it was a zoo, friendly, packed with ghouls and princesses, and featuring all sorts of engaging and silly stuff...along with the loot. Not so much on Tuesday, which also may have been part of the problem. Really effective Halloween pillage requires that there be no school the next day. How can you get sick on chocolate if you know you will have to be in class the next morning?
I also noticed something else on Harrison that caught my attention: a significant number of the houses had people sitting out on the lawn or sidewalk waiting to hand out candy. You couldn't even go to the door. Some of the houses even had their lawns barracaded, which struck me as overkill. But the thing that made me absolutely furious was the homeowner who hired their nanny to hand out candy. The residents simply couldn't be bothered to do it themselves.
If that is what you really think of Halloween, turn out the lights, gang. If that is what you really think of the tradition, go out for the evening instead. Better yet, get a life. But if you are going to take part in the festivities, then do it. Jump in with both feet. Take your children out, and then pass out chocolate and ju ju berries at your own door until your arm gets sore and you run out.
It's a once a year thing. You're an adult. You can handle it.
Friday, November 03, 2006
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