Halloween, 1988. I posted this about a year ago, but I think it bears another view. I was dressed as Jon Bon Jovi, God help us all. And that sneer is supposed to be me looking like JBJ, with his pouty rock star expression. I believe we were asked by every house if we didn't think we were maybe a little too old to be trick-or-treating. (We were in eighth grade. And yes, we went trick-or-treating in eighth grade. Our coolness was unassailable, let me tell you.)
Does anyone out there like Bit O' Honey? For some reason, I always ended up with a disproportionate amount of Bit O' Honeys in my treat bag when I was a kid. As candy goes, especially when lined up next to Snickers, Skittles and Tootsie Roll Pops (did you used to look for the Native American shooting the star with a bow and arrow, too? that was supposed to signify something, but I've no idea what), Bit O' Honeys left something to be desired. Like flavor. They were always the last thing left in the big mixing bowl on top of the fridge, where our haul ended up once we'd eaten our alotted three pieces of candy on Halloween night. Months after Halloween, when my mom would finally discard the remnants of my loot, it would consist of some rock-hard Bit O' Honeys, powdery Necco wafers and perhaps a handful of crumbling Dum Dum lollipops.
Oh, and those little flimsy cellophane packets with three candy corn in them were not my fave, either. I mean, THREE candy corn? Come on! Also disappointing: toothbrushes (funny joke -- now give me some CANDY!), apples (seriously? I can eat an apple ANYTIME), and homemade cookies or brownies (which I would have liked, but they were immediately discarded by my vigilant parents for the possibility of containing poison and/or razor blades). (See also: this list, originally brought to my attention by Jonniker -- this is a truly appalling display of Halloween party pooper-ness.)
On Halloween night, we will not be answering our door with handfuls of candy for all the neighborhood children, because the neighborhood children go to the stoop and vestibule of each building, rather than to each individual apartment on the block, to trick-or-treat. Which I learned last year when I sat expectantly by the door, armed with a giant bowl of Butterfingers, Reese's Cups, Twizzlers and Tootsie Roll Pops, and...nothing happened.
It was our first Halloween in the new apartment, and I thought that our block association's signs exhorting people to prepare for trick-or-treaters meant they would be letting kids and parents go into each building. Nay. Families and residents gathered outside -- in costume, natch, and with pumpkins adorning the sidewalks and stoops -- and the kids wandered about collecting candy in front of each building while the adults socialized and managed the escalating sugar high chaos. It was plenty festive, and I can't wait to do it next year with our own little squirt -- but I am mildly bitter that I don't have an excuse to load up on candy.
Anyway, what we'll do instead is watch "Night of the Living Dead," the classic from 1968, which we bought on DVD a couple of years ago when we were jonesing for a scary movie, and nothing on TV would suffice. The movie is hilariously ridiculous in all sorts of ways, but the best part is that there's a Mystery Science Theater-esque commentary track on the DVD, and hoo boy, is it ever funny. I highly recommend it.
Happy Halloween to you all! I hope your treat bags are full of the good stuff (not Bit O' Honey) (unless you like those, in which case, enjoy!) (freak) (oh, I kid!).