Trick or Treat

It’s that time of the year again.  My morning walk no longer consists of a pleasant stroll around suburban streets but has become a hasty path through ghoulish graveyards and pet cemeteries.  Giant cobwebs adorn houses; corpses hang from lemon trees and skeletons sit on the front porch with welcoming toothy grins.

What is it about Halloween that fascinates America? I just don’t get it.  Back in the UK when I was small Halloween was a pretty low key affair; you dressed up in one or your mum’s old black skirts with a homemade witches hat and tried your luck at apple bobbing. Life was very simple way back then.

Several years came to pass and trick or treating reared its ugly head. When my own children were little they would head out into the street with their friends wearing whatever spooky makeshift costume came to hand, clutching an empty carrier bag in the hope of bringing home the odd kitkat or two.

We would decorate our own house with a simple Jack o’lantern – a sign that we would welcome other trick or treaters if they came to call. Most kids knew better than to knock at a door that didn’t have some sort of Halloween artifact on display.

Over here – every house has some sort of artifact on display. It’s a great way to lure children into your home.  As for trick or treating, it's totally out of all proportion. Mom and pop cruise the streets in their black SUV to ensure there is none of that tiresome "walking" around the neighbourhood, the stores are loaded with shelves and shelves of multi-bagged sweets - the American Dental Association must be rubbing their hands with glee.  And of course there are cards too - Happy Halloween - who an earth would you send one of those to?

Then of course there are the "pumpkin patches" that pop-up over night on a bit of waste ground, where you can buy yourself a pumpkin, loose your kids on the bouncy castle and admire the animals in the “petting zoo”.  I’m completely baffled by the concept of the petting zoo - a miserable collection of caged goats, rabbits and hens which travels around showgrounds and farmer’s markets purely for the pleasure of the paying public who can let their toddlers loose in the animal pen. It’s one of those bizarre archaic American traditions that really should have been banned by animal welfare activists many years ago.

Having been to the Pumpkin Patch, collected your pumpkin and let your pre-schooler manhandle a couple of newly hatched chicks, it’s then time to head to Party City to choose your outfit.  Party City, a shop the size of a small warehouse, is now dedicated almost entirely to Halloween paraphernalia.  Adorning an entire wall  are pictures of every costume imaginable and available for you to buy. Don’t forget to bring your pet dog so that they can choose one too.

Unfortunately we had to pay a visit to Party City because the teenager insisted she needed a new costume for the Halloween shinanigans she had been invited to. She couldn’t possibly wear an outfit from a previous year and nearly had kittens at the suggestion that we should perhaps make something instead.  Mermaid? Playboy Bunny? Nurse? What was it to be?  Most of the outfits looked as if they would be more at home in one of those top shelf  “Adults Only” catelogues.  In the end we purchased a relatively tasteful set of Natalie Portman style Black Swan feathered wings and a tutu. 

So how will I spend my Halloween? Well, it'll just be another typical Monday night for me - I'll be out on my broomstick somewhere....