The Christmas decorations everywhere might indicate that it's too late for an article about Halloween, but I'm sorry, I just can't stop dwelling. Let me explain why.
Once upon a time, what seems simultaneously like yesterday and like one hundred years ago, October 31 was a special and exciting day. For weeks, children would plan their Halloween costumes, taking care to consider every detail and accessory. We'd discuss it amongst our friends, talk it over with our parents, and the anticipation was almost too much.
The school costume parade was so much fun! It was always after lunch, so our entire lunch hour was spent putting on make-up or masks, or, if we were lucky, that colored hair spray that cost way too much before the days of dollar stores. We'd all line up in the gym, and prizes were awarded to the most creative costumes.
Once we arrived home, it was all our parents could do to keep us in the house for long enough to have supper, since we were so anxious to go trick-or-treating. This part of the night was also well planned; our routes had been mapped for days, and we were intent on achieving maximum candy acquisition with minimal transit time. Because, at the end of the day, it was all about the treats.
We lived in a rural community, which meant after we had done most of our immediate area on foot, one of our parents had to drive us around, while the other stayed behind to pass out treats. We we knew the spots where all the "rich people" (those who passed out full-size chocolate bars or cans of pop) lived, who gave you fudge, and who would keep you inside talking for 10 minutes. Everybody was home, and every house passed out treats.
I don't think we ever arrived home with less than a full garbage bag of loot, and while some things disappeared quickly, there were always bags of chips and those gross molasses candies remaining weeks after.
What you just read is a true story, kids. It happened to me, every year.
My awesome Halloween memories have translated from excitement about going out, to excitement about being a person who passes out treats. This year, in addition to the severed heads, ghosts, and bats hanging about my yard, I created a small cemetery. It took me a long time to cut tombstones out of styrofoam, carve words and designs onto them, paint them, mount them, and set them up. I put fake blood dripping down some, rats and spiders sitting on others, and even a zombie crawling out of the ground. With all the decorations and lights, I thought my house was just the kind of house we'd have flocked to as kids.
And in preparation for that, since I live in a neighborhood with lots of children, I went out and bought enough treats for 120 kids. I had chips, bars, candies, suckers, everything you can imagine stuffed into treat bags and waiting to be given out. I lit up the Halloween village on the table by my entrance, saw my little Buzz Lightyear and Scream Ghost off with their dad, and waited for the crowds to arrive.
In 3 hours I saw 12 kids. Of those 12, only about half were wearing costumes. One was a 6'4" tall ninja with a deeper voice than my husband, who arrived with a goblin-masked friend smoking a cigarette, and a pirate who drove the car they pulled up in.
Kids, you have to realize when you go to houses on Halloween night, people give you free candy! Just for showing up! Has that fact become unknown in recent years? Because if I was shorter and more selfish, I'd be throwing on some She-Ra garb and making a killing.
It's very sad for me to see such a special tradition from my past become so unceremonious to this generation of kids. With the mass retail bombardment that's common for every "holiday", I would have expected Halloween to be bigger and better than ever. But it seems that kids aren't all that interested anymore, and what a shame that is.
When did 11-year-olds start finding more enjoyment in smashing pumpkins than going door to door for treats? When did a school sweatshirt, jeans, a baseball hat and a face with a few black make-up streaks become a costume? And, most importantly, where have all the kids gone? Are they home playing X-box? Did they not get the memo about free candy?
I don't care. I'll still decorate my house like the crazy Halloween lady every year in hopes that someday things will get back to the way they used to be.
Until then, I'm stuck with 100 bags of Cheetos and a Christmas tree to put up.
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Here Kiddie Kiddies
Dear Trick-or-Treaters/their parents:
I'd like to tell you a story.
Once upon a time, what seems simultaneously like yesterday and like one hundred years ago, October 31 was a special and exciting day. For weeks, children would plan their Halloween costumes, taking care to consider every detail and accessory. We'd discuss it amongst our friends, talk it over with our parents, and the anticipation was almost too much.
The school costume parade was so much fun! It was always after lunch, so our entire lunch hour was spent putting on make-up or masks, or, if we were lucky, that colored hair spray that cost way too much before the days of dollar stores. We'd all line up in the gym, and prizes were awarded to the most creative costumes.
Once we arrived home, it was all our parents could do to keep us in the house for long enough to have supper, since we were so anxious to go trick-or-treating. This part of the night was also well planned; our routes had been mapped for days, and we were intent on achieving maximum candy acquisition with minimal transit time. Because, at the end of the day, it was all about the treats.
We lived in a rural area, which meant after we had done most of our immediate area on foot, one of our parents had to drive us around, while the other stayed behind to pass out treats. We we knew the spots where all the "rich people" (those who passed out full-size chocolate bars or cans of pop) lived, who gave you fudge, and who would keep you inside talking for 10 mnutes. Everybody was home, and every house passed out treats.
I don't think we ever arrived home with less than a full garbage bag of loot, and while some things disappeared quickly, there were always bags of chips and those gross molasses candies remaining weeks after.
What you just read is a true story, kids. It happened to me, every year.
My awesome Halloween memories have translated from excitement about going out, to excitement about being a person who passes out treats. This year, in addition to the severed heads, ghosts, and bats hanging about my yard, I created a small cemetery. It took me a long time to cut tombstones out of styrofoam, carve words and designs onto them, paint them, mount them, and set them up. I put fake blood dripping down some, rats and spiders sitting on others, and even a zombie crawling out of the ground. With all the decorations and lights, I thought my house was just the kind of house we'd have flocked to as kids.
And in preparation for that, since I live in a neighborhood with lots of children, I went out and bought enough treats for 120 kids. I had chips, bars, candies, suckers, everything you can imagine stuffed into treat bags and waiting to be given out. I lit up the Halloween village on the table by my entrance, saw my little Buzz Lightyear and Scream Ghost off with their Dad, and waited for the crowds to arrive.
In 3 hours I saw 12 kids. Of those 12, only about half were wearing costumes. One was a 6'4" tall ninja with a deeper voice than my husband, who arrived with a goblin-masked friend smoking a cigarette, and a pirate who drove the car they pulled up in.
Kids, you have to realize when you go to houses on Halloween night, people give you free candy! Just for showing up! Has that fact become unknown in recent years? Because if I was shorter and more selfish, I'd be throwing on some She-Ra garb and making a killing.
It's very sad for me to see such a special tradition from my past become so unceremonious to this generation of kids. With the mass retail bombardment that's common for every "holiday", I would have expected Halloween to be bigger and better than ever. But it seems that kids aren't all that interested anymore, and what a shame that is.
When did 11-year-olds start finding more enjoyment in smashing pumpkins than going door to door for treats? When did a school sweatshirt, jeans, a baseball hat and a face with a few black make-up streaks become a costume? Why are there as many high schoolers at my door as little children? And, most importantly, where have all the kids gone? Are they home playing X-box? Did they not get the Halloween memo? You know, about the free candy and everything?
I don't care. I'll still decorate my house like the crazy Halloween lady every year in hopes that someday things will get back to the way they used to be. Until then, I'm stuck with 100 bags of Cheetos and a yard to clean.
I'd like to tell you a story.
Once upon a time, what seems simultaneously like yesterday and like one hundred years ago, October 31 was a special and exciting day. For weeks, children would plan their Halloween costumes, taking care to consider every detail and accessory. We'd discuss it amongst our friends, talk it over with our parents, and the anticipation was almost too much.
The school costume parade was so much fun! It was always after lunch, so our entire lunch hour was spent putting on make-up or masks, or, if we were lucky, that colored hair spray that cost way too much before the days of dollar stores. We'd all line up in the gym, and prizes were awarded to the most creative costumes.
Once we arrived home, it was all our parents could do to keep us in the house for long enough to have supper, since we were so anxious to go trick-or-treating. This part of the night was also well planned; our routes had been mapped for days, and we were intent on achieving maximum candy acquisition with minimal transit time. Because, at the end of the day, it was all about the treats.
We lived in a rural area, which meant after we had done most of our immediate area on foot, one of our parents had to drive us around, while the other stayed behind to pass out treats. We we knew the spots where all the "rich people" (those who passed out full-size chocolate bars or cans of pop) lived, who gave you fudge, and who would keep you inside talking for 10 mnutes. Everybody was home, and every house passed out treats.
I don't think we ever arrived home with less than a full garbage bag of loot, and while some things disappeared quickly, there were always bags of chips and those gross molasses candies remaining weeks after.
What you just read is a true story, kids. It happened to me, every year.
My awesome Halloween memories have translated from excitement about going out, to excitement about being a person who passes out treats. This year, in addition to the severed heads, ghosts, and bats hanging about my yard, I created a small cemetery. It took me a long time to cut tombstones out of styrofoam, carve words and designs onto them, paint them, mount them, and set them up. I put fake blood dripping down some, rats and spiders sitting on others, and even a zombie crawling out of the ground. With all the decorations and lights, I thought my house was just the kind of house we'd have flocked to as kids.
And in preparation for that, since I live in a neighborhood with lots of children, I went out and bought enough treats for 120 kids. I had chips, bars, candies, suckers, everything you can imagine stuffed into treat bags and waiting to be given out. I lit up the Halloween village on the table by my entrance, saw my little Buzz Lightyear and Scream Ghost off with their Dad, and waited for the crowds to arrive.
In 3 hours I saw 12 kids. Of those 12, only about half were wearing costumes. One was a 6'4" tall ninja with a deeper voice than my husband, who arrived with a goblin-masked friend smoking a cigarette, and a pirate who drove the car they pulled up in.
Kids, you have to realize when you go to houses on Halloween night, people give you free candy! Just for showing up! Has that fact become unknown in recent years? Because if I was shorter and more selfish, I'd be throwing on some She-Ra garb and making a killing.
It's very sad for me to see such a special tradition from my past become so unceremonious to this generation of kids. With the mass retail bombardment that's common for every "holiday", I would have expected Halloween to be bigger and better than ever. But it seems that kids aren't all that interested anymore, and what a shame that is.
When did 11-year-olds start finding more enjoyment in smashing pumpkins than going door to door for treats? When did a school sweatshirt, jeans, a baseball hat and a face with a few black make-up streaks become a costume? Why are there as many high schoolers at my door as little children? And, most importantly, where have all the kids gone? Are they home playing X-box? Did they not get the Halloween memo? You know, about the free candy and everything?
I don't care. I'll still decorate my house like the crazy Halloween lady every year in hopes that someday things will get back to the way they used to be. Until then, I'm stuck with 100 bags of Cheetos and a yard to clean.
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Prop 8
While Americans are basking in the joy of an exciting and historical election and anticipating a new Presidential administration, other election-night results aren't quite so hopeful.
Residents of California were asked on their Tuesday ballots to vote on Proposition 8, a Constitutional amendment governing the legality of gay marriage. Each side of the issue campaigned vigorously over the pastfew weeks. As I'm writing this, two days after the election, it looks as though Prop 8 has passed in California, making same-sex marriage illegal. (I should note, Arizona and Florida, in their own Propositions, voted the same way.)
Even though Nova Scotia is far ahead of it's time in matters of same-sex marriage and benefit equality, homosexuality is an uncomfortable topic for many people, especially in small, rural areas. You may disagree with homosexuality; you may think it's immoral or wrong or against your religion. You may not have ever been exposed to gay culture and just don't understand it. Regardless of why you don't look positively at homosexuality, in today's society it doesn't really matter. There are gay people in St. Peter's, Port Hawkesbury, Cregnish, Mabou, Little Anse, Guysborough, Canso, Chapel Island, and everywhere in between, and no individual's or group's moral self- righteousness is going to change that. I'm not here to debate morality. Gay people are here, they're not going away, and everyone has to either accept that or move to the moon, where, to my knowledge, there aren't any gay people. Yet.
The problem with Prop 8 is the civil rights violation associated with its passing.
Gay people are people, in the same way as white people are people, ugly people are people, racist people are people, and people who eat their own boogers are people. Is every person the kind of person we want to be? No. Some aren't even the type of people we'd want to be in the same room with. But there's no denying that they are indeed people, all with the same rights as human beings as I have.
Just because someone is Asian, should they not be entitled to a fair trial in a court of law? Just because someone is disabled, should they not be able to bear children if they so choose? Just because someone is gay, should they not be able to get married? Some say "apples and oranges". I say making same-sex marriage illegal is no different than squashing a woman's right to vote.
Proponents of Prop 8 will argue, "our Constitution says that marriage is a union between a man and a woman, and that's the way it should stay." Really? The same Constitution written 158 years ago? The one that's had to be amended over 500 times? The one that, up until a few decades ago, still recognized women as inferior citizens by "modern moral standards"?
Change is necessary as civilization evolves, and this Proposition is a perfect example of small-minded people being resistant to change.
There is no reason that a definition of marriage can't be between one consenting adult citizen and another consenting adult citizen. No reason, that is, except arbitrary notions of morality and religion which are debatable from a theological standpoint and irrelevant from a legislative one.
What makes this issue even more discriminatory is that, as of June 17 of this year, the California Supreme Court ruled that same-sex marriage is perfectly legal, and almost 20,000 same-sex couples have married since. The passing of Prop 8 calls into question whether these marriages will be retroactively annulled by the constitutional change. Imagine finally marrying the person you love and then having the government tell you it was all a farce, because other people don't agree with your choice. Talk about inequality.
I take the institution of marriage very seriously. It is very important to me that I am a wife, that the man I live with is my husband, and that we're recognized that way in both a legal and societal context. But it seems to me that people are ignoring the integral fundamentals of the concept of marriage and misguidedly concentrating on the language used to define it. Anyone in a marriage can tell you that two people's physical ability to produce children has little to do with their ability to sustain a productive and loving union. Marriage is about love, commitment and partnership, not anatomy. There are heterosexual couples the world over who cheat on each other and otherwise destroy the sanctity of marriage, while there are same-sex couples who are model examples of what a good relationship should be.
Who are we to dictate the extent of someone else's happiness, especially when that happiness harms nothing more than the status quo?
With Prop 8's passage, people in California might have lost the same-sex equality battle, but I have a feeling they will, rightly, win the war.
Residents of California were asked on their Tuesday ballots to vote on Proposition 8, a Constitutional amendment governing the legality of gay marriage. Each side of the issue campaigned vigorously over the pastfew weeks. As I'm writing this, two days after the election, it looks as though Prop 8 has passed in California, making same-sex marriage illegal. (I should note, Arizona and Florida, in their own Propositions, voted the same way.)
Even though Nova Scotia is far ahead of it's time in matters of same-sex marriage and benefit equality, homosexuality is an uncomfortable topic for many people, especially in small, rural areas. You may disagree with homosexuality; you may think it's immoral or wrong or against your religion. You may not have ever been exposed to gay culture and just don't understand it. Regardless of why you don't look positively at homosexuality, in today's society it doesn't really matter. There are gay people in St. Peter's, Port Hawkesbury, Cregnish, Mabou, Little Anse, Guysborough, Canso, Chapel Island, and everywhere in between, and no individual's or group's moral self- righteousness is going to change that. I'm not here to debate morality. Gay people are here, they're not going away, and everyone has to either accept that or move to the moon, where, to my knowledge, there aren't any gay people. Yet.
The problem with Prop 8 is the civil rights violation associated with its passing.
Gay people are people, in the same way as white people are people, ugly people are people, racist people are people, and people who eat their own boogers are people. Is every person the kind of person we want to be? No. Some aren't even the type of people we'd want to be in the same room with. But there's no denying that they are indeed people, all with the same rights as human beings as I have.
Just because someone is Asian, should they not be entitled to a fair trial in a court of law? Just because someone is disabled, should they not be able to bear children if they so choose? Just because someone is gay, should they not be able to get married? Some say "apples and oranges". I say making same-sex marriage illegal is no different than squashing a woman's right to vote.
Proponents of Prop 8 will argue, "our Constitution says that marriage is a union between a man and a woman, and that's the way it should stay." Really? The same Constitution written 158 years ago? The one that's had to be amended over 500 times? The one that, up until a few decades ago, still recognized women as inferior citizens by "modern moral standards"?
Change is necessary as civilization evolves, and this Proposition is a perfect example of small-minded people being resistant to change.
There is no reason that a definition of marriage can't be between one consenting adult citizen and another consenting adult citizen. No reason, that is, except arbitrary notions of morality and religion which are debatable from a theological standpoint and irrelevant from a legislative one.
What makes this issue even more discriminatory is that, as of June 17 of this year, the California Supreme Court ruled that same-sex marriage is perfectly legal, and almost 20,000 same-sex couples have married since. The passing of Prop 8 calls into question whether these marriages will be retroactively annulled by the constitutional change. Imagine finally marrying the person you love and then having the government tell you it was all a farce, because other people don't agree with your choice. Talk about inequality.
I take the institution of marriage very seriously. It is very important to me that I am a wife, that the man I live with is my husband, and that we're recognized that way in both a legal and societal context. But it seems to me that people are ignoring the integral fundamentals of the concept of marriage and misguidedly concentrating on the language used to define it. Anyone in a marriage can tell you that two people's physical ability to produce children has little to do with their ability to sustain a productive and loving union. Marriage is about love, commitment and partnership, not anatomy. There are heterosexual couples the world over who cheat on each other and otherwise destroy the sanctity of marriage, while there are same-sex couples who are model examples of what a good relationship should be.
Who are we to dictate the extent of someone else's happiness, especially when that happiness harms nothing more than the status quo?
With Prop 8's passage, people in California might have lost the same-sex equality battle, but I have a feeling they will, rightly, win the war.
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