by Fred Moleck
Halloween Chic
It would be safe to say that most people’s experiences of Halloween are nocturnal ones.
Silhouettes of witches against a full moon, jack-o-lanterns glimmering on porches, and the ubiquitous black cat scurrying across a moonlit remnant of a corn field are not unfamiliar ones to us.
The darkness of night adds to the mystery of Halloween. For most well-adjusted, healthy, playful, and deeply spiritual people, the spooks and goblins are great fun.
They are hardly threats to one’s sense of the sacred. If they are, then it’s time for some serious spiritual counseling to help the person to grow up.
The people who enjoy the fantasies of Halloween no doubt read the Harry Potter books and rejoice over good triumphing over evil within an atmosphere of youthful exploration and play.
Hogwarts would be a great place to spend Halloween. These folks know the power of a dark stormy atmosphere. Christians also know power, since they know that Jesus died, once and for all, and the power of darkness has no power over him.
End of homily for All Hallows’ Eve.
Trick-or-treating works best when porch lights are on and a nearly useless street light illumines the tops of telephone and electric poles. Street level is always a little dangerous, causing one to trip over one’s costume.
Two weekends ago, I was horrified. I witnessed a violation of traditional Halloween practices and ethos. This outrage occurred on Worth Avenue in Palm Beach in southern Florida.
If you are unfamiliar with Worth Avenue, think Mercedes-Benz sedans, Ferrari sports cars, face lifts, tummy-tucks, blue-haired tigers, and leathered bodies—the invisible very rich.
The stores on Worth Avenue service the rarefied wealthy of the above. It is not difficult to drop around $100 for lunch for two—and that’s without liquor and wine.
You also have the opportunity to purchase eye-glass frames at a cool $1300 . . . frames, mind you, not with the lenses.
Gucci reigns supreme.
So, what caused such horror?
At 2:00 in the afternoon there were clusters of six-, seven-year-old mummers going from store to store trick-or-treating. There were little angels. There were little goblins. There were a few miniature Spidermen about.
All of the little mummers had the regulation-size loot bags. After a few hits, some of the kidlets surrendered their loot to their mommas or their nannies.
The adults then would dump the candies in a special larger bag in the van or convertible or Hummer or Rolls-Royce.
Then the children would move on to “scare” another proprietor into submission for another candy hit.
Gasp. First of all, it took place in broad daylight. How can a self-respecting trick-or-treater perform any dastardly “trick” under a Florida sun as revenge for a lousy bag of M&Ms?How could the power of darkness be conjured up when the momma has enough Swiss bank accounts to buy not only all of Hell, but has the capability to set up a shelter for the Hell-less Homeless?
Thirdly, what do these kids know about the weirdness of Halloween night, or Woldemort or witches brew and all the horror spook shows that got us ready for Halloween?
Their moms were proud though. They reached a whole new level in chic. Their children could trick-or-treat safely, secure some candy stash, and not interrupt mom and dad’s Saturday night out.
The parents were probably in costume too. No ghosts or goblins for mom and pop. It would be more like bright colors, fresh pedicures, highlighted blond hair and sockless feet on the men.
How chic, even on Halloween.
You can reach Fred Moleck via email at fmoleck@earthlink.net