As a horror fan it really only makes sense that Halloween is and always has been my favorite holiday. Yes, it even trumps Christmas. We don't get to be werewolves at Christmas and that is the first costume I remember choosing for myself. I was in the first grade. Life was good. We would decorate the classroom, make construction paper masks (I also made that one a werewolf...it was 1981 what else would I do?), plan our class Halloween party and dress up for a parade through the school on Halloween Day. I still fondly remember my first grade costume with the cheap vinyl coverall that came on the cardboard hanger and the plastic mask that would get wet on the inside from breathing, not to mention that you could barely see through the eye slits. By the time we got home to go trick-or-treating, we already had so much candy and other stuff that it was simple gluttony that kept us going.

Then my dad would come home from work (where he usually won the office costume contest) and we'd be off trick-or-treating. You see back then, the parents would stay home and answer the door, trying their best to scare the living daylights out of the neighbor kids while my step-siblings and I would comb the houses of our subdivision for all the usual Halloween confections. We didn't need flashlights because people drove slowly. We didn't need adults because it was safe. The only things we feared were the legendary “Man in the Blue Van” who was known to snatch little children who strayed from their group (he didn't exist but he kept us together) and my neighbor's mean little dachshund, Charmin. She may have been a little wiener dog but she was fierce. She chased me until I sailed over the split-rail fence once but I NEVER dropped my candy.

Back in those days everyone got into the holiday. Stores would pass out trick-or-treat bags with the logos of local businesses on them. They were cheap so the handles would stretch out and break by the end of the night but that just meant your bag was full. By the time you got home you were toting it like a paper grocery sack. You knew it was time to head home when the elastic on the mask snapped and the crotch of the costume would split. Then we'd dump it all onto the floor of the den and start trading. First my mom would take all the Kit-Kats and my dad would take all the Three Musketeers (they worked hard while we were galavanting) then we'd all swap what we didn't want and pile into bed with our masks hanging on the bedposts. We couldn't sleep at first but then the sugar crash would hit and it was all over until the morning. Then is was Halloween candy for breakfast, if we didn't tell our parents, until Christmas.

Every year when the air turns crisp and the leaves get crunchy, my heart longs for those days. It's not like that anymore. You can barely take treats to school anymore with all the allergies and fears of poison flying around. Halloween parties have been replaced with Fall Festivals and costumes are frowned upon. Honestly I see more trick-or-treaters out of costume these days and that's the worst thing of all. It's truly depressing for me to imagine being a kid these days. I'm just glad they don't know what they're missing. Maybe that makes it better for them. But not for me. I lament the loss of my favorite holiday traditions. I was driving around the neighborhoods the other day scanning the houses for any sign of Halloween decorations. I was hoping to see some early jack-o-lanterns, the kind that will be all mushy and look like toothless old men by the time Halloween gets here. I was praying for anything: a bale of hay with a scarecrow, some ghosties in the trees, I'd even take some purple or orange lights. Nothing. I sadly turned to head home and enjoy my own.

Then my dad would come home from work (where he usually won the office costume contest) and we'd be off trick-or-treating. You see back then, the parents would stay home and answer the door, trying their best to scare the living daylights out of the neighbor kids while my step-siblings and I would comb the houses of our subdivision for all the usual Halloween confections. We didn't need flashlights because people drove slowly. We didn't need adults because it was safe. The only things we feared were the legendary “Man in the Blue Van” who was known to snatch little children who strayed from their group (he didn't exist but he kept us together) and my neighbor's mean little dachshund, Charmin. She may have been a little wiener dog but she was fierce. She chased me until I sailed over the split-rail fence once but I NEVER dropped my candy.

Back in those days everyone got into the holiday. Stores would pass out trick-or-treat bags with the logos of local businesses on them. They were cheap so the handles would stretch out and break by the end of the night but that just meant your bag was full. By the time you got home you were toting it like a paper grocery sack. You knew it was time to head home when the elastic on the mask snapped and the crotch of the costume would split. Then we'd dump it all onto the floor of the den and start trading. First my mom would take all the Kit-Kats and my dad would take all the Three Musketeers (they worked hard while we were galavanting) then we'd all swap what we didn't want and pile into bed with our masks hanging on the bedposts. We couldn't sleep at first but then the sugar crash would hit and it was all over until the morning. Then is was Halloween candy for breakfast, if we didn't tell our parents, until Christmas.

or-treaters out of costume these days and that's the worst thing of all. It's truly depressing for me to imagine being a kid these days. I'm just glad they don't know what they're missing. Maybe that makes it better for them. But not for me. I lament the loss of my favorite holiday traditions. I was driving around the neighborhoods the other day scanning the houses for any sign of Halloween decorations. I was hoping to see some early jack-o-lanterns, the kind that will be all mushy and look like toothless old men by the time Halloween gets here. I was praying for anything: a bale of hay with a scarecrow, some ghosties in the trees, I'd even take some purple or orange lights. Nothing. I sadly turned to head home and enjoy my own.

But just as I was certain that I was the only one left who gave a fig about Halloween I watched Trick 'r Treat. I was amazed. I was overjoyed. I think I might have cried a little. Could it be possible to recreate my memories on celluloid like that? Was it really true that others missed it like I do? Little Sam in his footie pajamas reminded me what Halloween was all about and the world was okay again now that Michael Dougherty's vision had come to life. Then along comes Adam Green with his Jack Chop short. While it's just a hilarious spoof of an infomercial to some, it's proof to me; proof that someone else knows what Halloween should be. And this could shape up to be the best Halloween in years thanks to these guys.  I suppose it doesn't matter if the classrooms of the world allow the kids to bob for apples. I guess it's okay if my neighbors turn off the lights and ignore the few children hoping to score a full-size Snickers. I know I'm not the only one who feels like I do and now I can really enjoy the holiday again. So as Halloween grows near I'll buy a Jack Chop, carve my pumpkin into a scary jack-o-lantern and leave it lit for those who care to remember like I do. Come to Maven's kids, full size candy bars all around. But you have to wear a costume.