Halloween in the Hood

This was the first year that Rollie was able to really walk from door to door for Halloween, so we decided to take him around the subdivision for some trick or treating. We had him all dressed up in his Batman outfit, sans mask, which he refused to keep on. I managed to get the pumpkin carved about 15 minutes before dark fell. I looked like a public service announcement for pumpkin carving safety: What Not to Do; Here i am with a long sharp knife in one hand, gripping the pumpkin with my other, Rollie running around bumping into and rattling the table with his Little Tykes "white trash" car, and Matilda in the sling between me and the knife and pumpkin. It was TRES safe.

Todd arrived home and we went over the lingo with Rollie before sending him out with Daddy: "Trick or Treat," which Rollie says and it sounds like he is saying, "Teat." We went outside (at this point, Todd had Matilda in the sling, and I was setting the pumpkin up on the porch) and took some pics to commemorate the occasion. The sun had just gone down and the kids were starting to come out for the festivities. I was reminded that my Mom used to call the trick or treaters "spooks," but I didn't quite feel comfortable in my neighborhood, calling all the little African American kids "spooks," no matter how innocuously i meant it. (I am not at all sure that innocuously is a word, now that I am reading it.) We rushed to get a few photo ops of Rollie, but he was so mesmerized by all of the big kids running around in their costumes (or lack thereof, but i will get to that in a moment) that he would barely sit still, much less look at the camera.

I took Matilda from Todd, and put her in the sling, then kissed Rollie goodbye, and sent them on their way. I watched from the porch, as my little boy, holding Daddy's hand, walked down the driveway into the twilight. (I thought about using, "gloaming" here, but just couldn't bring myself to sound that pretentious.) I think that i will never forget the beauty of that moment, the rush of memories from my childhood, comingled with the feeling of entering unchartered territory as a parent, all played out against the backdrop of children's laughter, and chants of Trick or Treat.

Matilda and I retired to the rocking chair on the porch, occasionally getting up to give candy to the trick or treaters, or chatting in the drive with the neighbors, Christine, Colin and Jeff, and Colin and Jeff's cock-a-poo puppy Jackson Duvall. (No, I am not kidding. That is the pup's name.) It is interesting to see how different Halloween is in this less-affluent-than-where-I-grew-up neighborhood. Okay, this neighborhood is not affluent at all. Our subdivision itself is, but the surrounding area is "transitional" or currently being "gentrified," or whatever the buzzword for "gay couples and young professionals are buying houses here and fixing them, property values are rapidly rising, and there is much dissension over property taxes." But the average joe, the long-time residents, are probably below or at poverty level.

I am reminded, every year at Halloween, of the first year I lived in East Atlanta, in our old house, and I was walking the dog on Halloween afternoon. I ran into the little girl down the street, who was about six. She was playing on the sidewalk, and I stopped so that she could pet the dog, Quint, and I asked her if she was excited about Halloween. She dejectedly said, "No." I asked, "Why not?" "I'm not going trick or treating," she says. I said, "Why," with a sense of dread already about her answer. "Grandma doesn't let us trick or treat. We turn off the lights at dark and pretend we aren't home." I will never forget that little girl and the realization that not all children have even Halloween, something that took totally for granted my whole childhood. That night, I was even more disillusioned about the state of Halloween in the Hood when the trick or treaters began knocking on the door. By trick or treaters, I mean kids and adults of all ages, knocking on the door, without costumes, to get candy. I am not sure whether it is that the kids (mostly the boys) think they are too "cool" for costumes, but many of them aren't even wearing a costume. Maybe their families can't afford them. If you ask the one in the Falcons jersey what he is, he will tell you he's Michael Vick. A plus is that the fews kids who are wearing costumes are wearing homemade ones, which are always more fun than the store-bought kind. Some of the smaller kids still have that Halloween gleam in their eye, that look that everything around them seems magical, the look that I remember having at Halloween. But for the most part, they just knock, and look at you blankly, mumbling a peremptory trick or treat, and then, when you give them a piece of candy, they ask for seconds.

Todd has a real problem with the "no costume, but i get candy anyway" mentality. He was upset with me, because I had bought all "good stuff." His Halloween handing out candy strategy is to buy half good stuff (individually-wrapped Hershey's and Nestle brand candy), half cheap stuff (dumdums, tootsie rolls, etc.) You give the good stuff to those in costumes, the cheap stuff to those not in costumes. This is a turnabout, because usually I am the hardass and he is the softie. But, in my mind, if your family can't afford a costume from the dollar store, and your parents can't be bothered to help you put something homemade together as a costume, then at least I can give you a Reese's, instead of a dumdum.

Todd and Rollie came back about an hour later, Rollie with a dumdum in his mouth, and a handful of candy in one hand, pumpkin candy basket in the other. We went inside and hastily heated up dinner, occasionally answering the door to give out more candy, and with Todd telling me about Rollie's first trick or treating experience. It seems that at one house, that of the two girls down the street with the Auburn flag on the porch, they opened the door and Rollie decided to forego the traditional "trick or treat" and just decided to invite himself in and proceed to climb their stairs. In the style of the childless everywhere, Todd said they looked as if they didn't know whether to go pick him up or not, and Todd said that he wasn't sure what the protocol was for retrieving your uninvited toddler from someone's home, so there was an awkward pause where Rollie was just exploring the girls' house. Todd also said that our neighbors across the street, Kevin and Rob, had friends over for Halloween, and they were pumping techno throughout the house, and when they opened the door, one of the friends was wearing a sailor outfit or somesuch.

You gotta love Halloween in the Hood.