Columnists
Shell out
Just a few days to go, kiddies, and then it’ll be over and done, Hallowe’en and the US election. Spooky events so different and yet so much alike. We can do it. We will power through this. So put on your scariest face and let’s brace ourselves for two nights of fright!
Now, Hallowe’en has always been a fun time for me. I remember what it was like when I was a kid in the fifties and early sixties. For me, it was something I started to prepare for the moment the first leaf hit the ground in autumn. Yep, my siblings and I would head down to the basement, where Mom kept a trunk full of old dress-up clothes. We pulled together our costumes out of those cast-offs. There were old house dresses, fancy dresses, strings of faux jewels, old work pants, old high heels, rubber boots, old hats and old sports coats.
Mom, or my Aunt Nina, would give us the dribbles of makeup left in tubes and compacts. With that, and a dab of lipstick for blood and a smudge of black boot wax to make the outfits look even older, we were usually pretty sure ours would be the best costumes in the neighbourhood. Once the costume situation was sorted, the Durning kids plotted whose house to go to get the best loot.
At least one of our neighbours always had homemade fudge. And since she never made enough for every hobgoblin, you had to put that house on top of your list or find yourself looking at an unlit front porch. If you were into popcorn balls, that was the next house to hit. Funny thing, I don’t remember ever getting a “fun-size” chocolate bar or a can of soda or a tiny bag of chips. Mostly, it was little boxes of Chiclets (which Mom claimed the moment you walked through the door), shelled peanuts (also a Mom favourite), those nasty “Hallowe’en” wrapped excuses for toffee, licorice pipes, wax lips, penny suckers, candy corn, apples and Gobstoppers.
We used old pillowcases or six-quart baskets to collect the goodies and would only head home when we couldn’t carry any more. Street lights were the signal to start the rounds.
Hallowe’en was a great event when I was a kid. We wandered the streets of our neighbourhood, trying to scare the devil out of each other. Making up stories about the crazy hermit who supposedly lived by the Humber River, gathering loot, shouting and singing. We didn’t knock on doors, we hollered “Trick ‘r’ Treat” and if no one answered there was no telling what we’d do with a purloined roll of toilet paper and a bag of doggie-doody. And—bonus—as a Catholic kid, the next day was a “holy day”. Let’s hear it for All Saints Day!
My poor stay-at-home mom had the pleasure of our boisterous company on November first. Who wouldn’t be thrilled to have a bunch of noisy kids home who’d been up late, ate too much junk and needed baths. Scary times. With the exception of more inventive costumes and far better treats, Hallowe’en is still a hoot and a haunt.
Ah yes, Hallowe’en. Scary times then and scary times now for all of the youngsters who threaten to “blow your windows inside out.” And, speaking of scary times, the scariest thing we’ll live through this year will happen a few days after all of the ghosts and ghouls have knocked back the last of their sweeties. November 8 will be the scariest day of the year for a lot of us, here in Canada, and for our friends and family south of the border. I dare say, almost as scary as opening your Hydro bill or checking your bank balance after grocery shopping. The US election. All tricks and not a treat in sight. Brace yourself, it’s going to get weird.
Comments (0)