Boo

 

      I love Halloween.

      Yes <<sigh>> I know, I know...it’s a holiday allegedly drenched in Satanic roots, replete with all sorts of horrifying images meant to invoke fear in mortals: ghosts, goblins, witches, Hillary, blah, blah, blah.

     

"I love Halloween because it is my favorite of all the holidays and was invented by an ancestor of mine, Phineas Trump Barnum, who was married to my great-great grandmother, Livinia Warren who left that loser first husband of hers, General Tom Thumb, who I don't think was even a general at all but a charlatan, a fake, a phony, and drifter in the circus-or was that a carnival?-but it was too bad, sad, really, that P.T. never got the credit he deserved because the election of 1876 was rigged and the newspapers claimed Halloween was an invention by Democrats which anyone with half a brain would know was a lie, but my loyal followers and I know the truth and know that I plan on unveiling my latest costume as Florida Governor which will no doubt terrify anyone stupid enough to answer their door even though I was going to go as a doughnut but Chris Christie scares me."

  

    Rather than surrender to the Dark Lord(or Donald Trump-I could never get that straight), the politically correct observe the holiday via “Fall Parades”, “Autumn Parties”, or “Insert-Festive-Name-Here Celebrations.”

      The hand-wringing crowd also prefers that children not dress up as traditional spooky characters; instead, they like to see non-threatening alter-egos such as “Insurance Salesman”, “Foot Doctor”, or “Blue Man Group.”

Or Dylan Mulvaney

      Oh, c’mon!  I remember taking my kids to a pre-Halloween celebration.  Not once did I sense the icy grip of Lucifer on their pillowcases full of Snickers and Jolly Ranchers.  Somehow, I doubt the Devil resides in clowns and ballerinas.

      Extortionist Trick-Or-Treating aside, it’s just a fun day for kids to dress up and go (ok, let’s call it for what it is) pandering door to door for goodies.  I’m not going to begrudge them a chance to have fun just because some simpering ninnies think the day glorifies evil.

Might wanna steer clear of this, though.

Or this.

      Halloween was a big deal when we were kids.  We began planning what we were going to wear and where we’d visit before school even started.  I remember…Superman, Green Hornet, Spiderman (yes, even then), Hulk, Frankenstein, Mummy, “Glow-In-The-Dark Skeleton”, Underdog, and “Criminally Insane Druggist” (which never caught on for some reason).

"Wait. You mean I could have glowed in the dark?
Why, you cheap bastard!"

      Unlike nowadays, we were never bird-dogged by our parents as we ran like lunatics throughout our neighborhoods, feasting on insane amounts of chocolate.

      We knew the unwritten Halloween codes: only go to houses with their lights on, be on the lookout for needles in the Milky Ways, don’t bother with the convent, avoid Mr. Mraz’s house, and take only one piece of candy from the bowl of those too lazy to hand them out themselves. 

Why, uh, surrrrrreeeee. 
We always followed that rule. 
Suckers.

      Oh, and fling eggs at the houses of those who dared to hand out apples, popcorn balls, pennies, and ketchup packets.

      We couldn’t get enough of what we saw as a great deal.  So, from six o’clock (or dark-it HAD to be dark) until nine, we went knocking on doors hoping we’d score enough candy that our arms would go numb from lugging around our sacks (Of CANDY!  Keep it clean!).

    Since we went to Catholic School, we had an additional good deal because the next day was All Saints Day.  To those “in the club”, so to speak, that meant November 1st was a “Holy Day of Obligation” and so, a day off from school.

    Our “holy obligation,” of course, was to shove candy down our throats when we got home, wake up, eat some Sugar Smacks, inhale more Three Musketeers, watch cartoons, and make fun of the public school kids as they trudged off to class.

     

The same public school kids who'd hang us
from stop signs by our underwear come November 2nd.

      

"Which is exactly what you'd deserve, ye cheeky scamps, for deserting the Lord for Reese's, Snickers, and Mounds!" 

Or Almond Joy. 
You know, the kind with nuts.

     My point is, what’s wrong with a holiday that gives children a chance to play dress up, carve pumpkins, and gorge themselves on goodies which are doomed to become petrified lumps of sugar in a bag on top of the refrigerator?

      Nothing.

      After all, Satan doesn’t like Peanut M&Ms.

"Hey, I have allergies! FU!"

Goodbye Columbus

 

"I said to sitta you assa down! We onna goddamna boat!!"

     I love October.  The air is redolent with the sweet aroma of burning leaves, high school gridirons thunder with the sound of fiercely-waged contests to push that pigskin across the goal line, Christmas lights-incredibly-start going up, and early-morning frosts whisper of the coming winter.

    October also gives us a chance to celebrate the exploits of an intrepid band of explorers who set sail from Barcelona in search of a western route to the fabulous wealth of the East (yeah, I know, going west to get east doesn’t make a whole lot of sense to me, either.).

    As a bonus, the tenth month of the year also gives us a chance to bemoan the rape and pillage of a pristine wilderness by voracious European murderers.

     Hang on while I remove my tongue from my cheek.

    So, in recognition of their accomplishments, mailmen get the day off and shopping malls trot out their very best Columbus Day displays of new bed linen (“Buy now!  Just think how comfy the ‘Santa Maria’ would have been if they only had these sheets!!”).

    As a holiday, though, Columbus Day doesn’t rank up there with the Big Four of Hanukkah, Christmas, New Years, and Canadian Thanksgiving.  It doesn’t draw in the romantics like Valentines Day, the patriots like the 4th of July, or even the corned beef and Guinness crowd like St. Patrick’s Day.

    More times than not, we hardly even know it’s happened until the evening news greets us with, “Happy Columbus Day!  You evil white bastards.”

    My family has for many years celebrated each holiday, no matter how innocuous.  For example, on Presidents’ Day, we used to dress up as our favorite Commanders in Chief until my brother spoiled it for everyone two years ago when, dressed as Joe Biden, he fell down the stairs.

Thank goodness he didn’t sniff the mannequins at Kohl’s, though.

    We never did much to commemorate the day in 1492 when Ferdinand and Isabella’s favorite Genoan set foot in the New World and proclaimed, “I claim this land for the King and Queen of Spain.  And Wal-Mart.”   

    In order to make it easier for everyone to properly observe one of the most significant accomplishments in world history (right behind invention of “The Clapper”), might I offer the following ways to celebrate Columbus Day:

10.  Slash the tires of those obnoxious, know-it-all “Vikings were here first!” punks at the Leif Eiriksson Community Center.

9.   Try to convince anyone that parrots, corn, and coconuts are just as valuable as jewels, gold, and silk.

8.   Go to the local casino, extend a heartfelt apology, drop a bundle at the craps table.

7.   Put on a wrinkled raincoat, chew on a cigar, try to figure out who put the poison in Miss VanDyver’s highball...oh, I’m sorry, that’s how to celebrate COLUMBO Day.

6.   Gather together all the history books at the library, cross out all references to ‘America’ and replace them with ‘Chrisville.’  Draw moustaches on any pictures of Amerigo Vespucci.

5.   Bring Christianity to your neighbors, claim your street for your family, pass out blankets riddled with smallpox to the homeless, and shake down passers-by, insisting they tell you where their gold is.

4.   Go to the local All-You-Can-Eat Chinese restaurant dressed as Columbus, walk in, and shout, “So, HERE’s where you people were all hiding!”

3.   Forward a petition to the city council demanding equal time with Labor Day.

2.   With your friends, build a scaled-down replica of Columbus’s fleet, drift aimlessly on the town pond, and claim YWCA summer camp for Spain.

1.   Once more dressed as Columbus, visit a deforested national park (or strip mine), issue “Ooops, my bad!” statement to the press.

    There now, I hope this list inspires you to do something other than complain when you can’t use the drive-up window at the bank. 

    It’s a shame Columbus Day has been deemphasized so much over the past few years in the misguided spirit of politically-correct revisionism. 

    Or revulsion at guys who wore tights and had scurvy.

     I’m not sure.

    I’m sad to say it’s now little more than listening to lying blowhards like Elizabeth Warren bitch about how her people have been beaten down by the man.

    As for me, I plan on doing the day up right.

    I’m gonna go get me a cannoli.