Oct. 3: As Halloween approaches...
As Halloween approaches, I am grateful for it because it stands as a
bulwark against incessant Christmas marketing. If it weren't for
Halloween, all the Christmas crap would come out the day after Easter.
I just came back from Shopper's Drug Mart, where I bought a four litre bottle of water and a small tin of infant Vicks Vap-o-rub for my son, who just spent two and a half hours waiting to see a doctor at the hospital. His vomit is currently drying to a milky stinking glaze on my shirt (my son's vomit, I mean. Not the doctor's.)
As I navigated the aisles of the SDM, I glimpsed lots of orange pumpkins, black cats, and motion detector ghosts that scream "boo" whenever you pass in front of it. There are also plenty of bags of candies because for some reason, we decided Halloween is a great time to introduce children to diabetes.
Look, the future meets the past.
When I lived in Redvers, Saskatchewan in the latter part of 1998, I attended a small evangelical church where the pastor said "I believe Halloween is demonic from the word go." He urged his congregation not to have anything to do with Halloween. "If kids come to your door, tell them there's a great party over at the church."
I don't know how many kids went to the church.
-
I have lived on my own since 2000 and in that time I have not had one trick-or-treater show up at my door. That could be because I'm usually out taking Halloween pictures for the newspaper. Even so, I just don't think I'd be overwhelmed by candy-munchers had I elected to stay home. I tend to live in obscure walk-up apartments. We just don't get the ghosts and goblins that you might get if you lived in a neighbourhood called Mapleview Heights.
-
When I was three, my mom dressed me up as Aunt Jemima for Halloween. I still have not forgiven her for this.
This year for Halloween, we's given the kids flapjacks with a side order of racism
Upon cross-examination several years later (when I was in my thirties), mom told me that I was being impossibly fussy that Halloween and I didn't want to put on any sort of costume. In desperation, mom grabbed an old pair of nylon and pulled them over my hair. Then she used some rouge to colour my cheeks. "There," she said. "You look like Aunt Jemima."
This disturbed me. Not because Aunt Jemima was black and not because Aunt Jemima was fat and not because I didn't like pancakes, it was because Aunt Jemima was a girl. At three, I felt I was too young to explore the dark world of transvestism. (Wow, that's actually a word. Cool.)
What mom should have done is told me she was dressing me as a pirate. I probably would have been cool with that.
-
I was at Costco a couple weeks ago and I bought my son a Halloween costume there. I think it's a blue ball of fur. I can't remember. All I know is my kid will be 20 months old when Halloween rolls around. Next year he'll start caring what I dress him up as for Halloween. This year I could put him in a Team USA hockey jersey and he still wouldn't revolt (though he probably wouldn't get any of those gold foil chocolate coins. All he'd get is silver. Oh I slay me.)
A great gift for any American hockey team that's playing Canada in the finals.
-
When I was a kid, I used to hate K-Mart, especially at Halloween time. They would always sell a line of really awful costumes. Like, if you wanted to be Superman, the costume would consist of a Superman mask and then a T-shirt with a picture of Superman on it.
This was particularly distressing to my best friend, who loved Superman and even got to dress up as him for Halloween when we were in Grade 1. I remember he was mad at this other kid named Shawn because he also dressed up as Superman. I, on the other hand, was the only Spiderman in class and that made me feel special.
But not as special as Aunt Jemima.
I just came back from Shopper's Drug Mart, where I bought a four litre bottle of water and a small tin of infant Vicks Vap-o-rub for my son, who just spent two and a half hours waiting to see a doctor at the hospital. His vomit is currently drying to a milky stinking glaze on my shirt (my son's vomit, I mean. Not the doctor's.)
As I navigated the aisles of the SDM, I glimpsed lots of orange pumpkins, black cats, and motion detector ghosts that scream "boo" whenever you pass in front of it. There are also plenty of bags of candies because for some reason, we decided Halloween is a great time to introduce children to diabetes.
Look, the future meets the past.When I lived in Redvers, Saskatchewan in the latter part of 1998, I attended a small evangelical church where the pastor said "I believe Halloween is demonic from the word go." He urged his congregation not to have anything to do with Halloween. "If kids come to your door, tell them there's a great party over at the church."
I don't know how many kids went to the church.
-
I have lived on my own since 2000 and in that time I have not had one trick-or-treater show up at my door. That could be because I'm usually out taking Halloween pictures for the newspaper. Even so, I just don't think I'd be overwhelmed by candy-munchers had I elected to stay home. I tend to live in obscure walk-up apartments. We just don't get the ghosts and goblins that you might get if you lived in a neighbourhood called Mapleview Heights.
-
When I was three, my mom dressed me up as Aunt Jemima for Halloween. I still have not forgiven her for this.
This year for Halloween, we's given the kids flapjacks with a side order of racismUpon cross-examination several years later (when I was in my thirties), mom told me that I was being impossibly fussy that Halloween and I didn't want to put on any sort of costume. In desperation, mom grabbed an old pair of nylon and pulled them over my hair. Then she used some rouge to colour my cheeks. "There," she said. "You look like Aunt Jemima."
This disturbed me. Not because Aunt Jemima was black and not because Aunt Jemima was fat and not because I didn't like pancakes, it was because Aunt Jemima was a girl. At three, I felt I was too young to explore the dark world of transvestism. (Wow, that's actually a word. Cool.)
What mom should have done is told me she was dressing me as a pirate. I probably would have been cool with that.
-
I was at Costco a couple weeks ago and I bought my son a Halloween costume there. I think it's a blue ball of fur. I can't remember. All I know is my kid will be 20 months old when Halloween rolls around. Next year he'll start caring what I dress him up as for Halloween. This year I could put him in a Team USA hockey jersey and he still wouldn't revolt (though he probably wouldn't get any of those gold foil chocolate coins. All he'd get is silver. Oh I slay me.)
A great gift for any American hockey team that's playing Canada in the finals.-
When I was a kid, I used to hate K-Mart, especially at Halloween time. They would always sell a line of really awful costumes. Like, if you wanted to be Superman, the costume would consist of a Superman mask and then a T-shirt with a picture of Superman on it.
This was particularly distressing to my best friend, who loved Superman and even got to dress up as him for Halloween when we were in Grade 1. I remember he was mad at this other kid named Shawn because he also dressed up as Superman. I, on the other hand, was the only Spiderman in class and that made me feel special.
But not as special as Aunt Jemima.
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