Because I Can… the random thoughts of Marc Scott

When I was growing up, Halloween was a pretty big deal at our house.  In fact, we had the coolest house in town.  People would come from neighbouring towns for the sole purpose of visiting our place.  They wanted to see what we had done, changed, or added this year.

We had stuffed dummies, all kinds of decorations, and an outdoor sound system cranking scary sounds and music that echoed down the street.  Dad would dress up as the Grim Reaper, and I would dress up as a stuffed dummy (keep your wise cracks to yourself thank you very much!)  We would scare the snot out of people all in the name of good fun.  And their reward for bravery was a bag of the most delicious homemade caramel corn you’d ever experience in your life.

Our set up was great.  I would sit, stuffed full of newspaper, in a chair inside the front door with the bags of caramel corn in a bowl on my lap.  I had a mask on, and, short of a full on close up inspection, nearly all were fooled as to my status of being alive or fake.  Kids – and parents – would walk through our front porch and into the living room.  As they would approach the chair where I sat, they’d stand very apprehensive about the whole deal.  Shouldn’t somebody hand them the candy? they’d wonder.  When they finally mustered up enough courage to reach into the bowl, I’d reach out, grab their arm, and watch the colour drain from their faces like somebody had just flushed their toilet.

It didn’t end there though.  When they would turn around to run for the safety of the sidewalk, they would run right into my dad, whom, dressed as the Grim Reaper, had snuck in behind them unnoticed while they tried to determine if they should reach for their own candy or not.

It was classic.  We were always careful of whom we did this to.  Obviously we weren’t so cruel as to play our game on very small children.  In the end, most were adequately terrified, satisfied with their carmel corn, and ready to return with their friends next year.  It wasn’t uncommon for us to see double, triple, or even beyond, the average number of trick or treaters that the rest of the homes in our community would see.

Another thing we always did that would impress people was our pumpkin carving.  There were no triangle eyes and jagged teethed jack-o-lanterns in our windows.  We would carve full out masterpieces that took entire afternoons of patience and precision to create.  When you’d look at the finished product sitting there on the kitchen table, you’d swear you had just wasted your entire afternoon.  But once you got a candle in it in the dark you could see the fruits of your labour.

I was surfing around on YouTube today and found a couple of videos that made me think back to those Halloween experiences as a kid.  One day maybe I’ll get to share similar experiences with my children.  Only this time around, maybe we’ll employ some different pumpkin carving techniques!