Friday, October 31, 2008


I can’t understand why I am such a Halloween scrooge. . I can’t be bothered going to the door to see all the costumed kids expecting a treat. Christine calls me downstairs to share the festivities. I must admit the really tiny tots are very cute because they are so innocently involved in this seasonal festivity. I should be more into it. Halloween eves when I was a kid were legendary. Typically, Dad would oblige the request of my brother and I to drive us to the wealthiest neighbourhoods in the city where we cleaned up. Big houses gave big treats. Occasionally, the homeowners expected us to sing or dance or some other talent exhibit. We were up to it. My brother and I could sing in harmony. We would get extras handfuls of treats. But when you become a man you put away childish things. So then I was a young father, oh yes, and a pastor. And when my children we very small I was thinking conservatively that Halloween was inappropriate because of its emphasis on the dark side. My children remember their friends going out to bang on doors while they had to come with Christine and I to the bowling alley for an evening of bowling. Clean fun. All things change of course. Our children have just come to the door with their own little tots looking so cute in their zebra and mouse costumes and waiting for a gift. Our little friends next door visited earlier and each of the three had to tell us a joke – prepped by their daddy. One asked, “What kind of car does Luke Skywalker drive?” Answer: “A Toy Yoda.” Maybe my biggest hang up is the fact that one of the most popular masks is that of an old person. Pretty scary. I look at one in the mirror every morning.

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