A Piece of Cake Mysteries
by Jacklyn Brady
Lately I've noticed that my attitude about certain things indicates that I'm getting older. For instance, when I watch a show on the television and realize that I don't identify with a single one of the characters. Or when I watch an advertisement on TV and wonder why what they're showing me would ever make me want to buy their product. Here's a news flash for you: if your family cell phone plan is going to allow the whole family to pass the buck, leaving the youngest child stranded at school, I'm not going to spend money on it!
The painful awareness that I'm no longer considered vital or important to most advertisers grows more pronounced every year. But lately I've started to realize that even Halloween is leaving me behind--and that makes me terribly sad.
Every every October 31 just before dark, all the neighborhood children rushed outside giddy with excitement that had been building for weeks. We met up in the center of the street and traveled the neighborhood in packs, going from house to house and gathering candy and treats from every house on the block.
Sometimes there would be parties with ghoulish treats and hay bales and maybe even bobbing for apples. But the parties never took the place of trick-or-treating. They were just a bonus.
These days, there are no packs of small children wandering the neighborhoods like there used to be, no joyous cries of "Trick or Treat" as children scamper from house to house and plunge headlong across the lawn. Half the houses on the street are dark on October 31 so people have to pass them by. And I suppose that when candy safety becomes such a huge deal that some parents talk about taking the kids' haul to a hospital so it can be X-rayed, things have gone too far. Yes, there's trunk-or-treat, which is a safer alternative, I suppose. But somehow it lacks the utter joy and abandon that we used to feel when we were kids.
Jacklyn Brady: copyright Stholen Moments Photography