Last night was, of course, Hallowe'en; terrible Jew that I am, I took my son to the kid next door's late-afternoon birthday costume party, and then stayed home with my daughter playing freaky music out the open windows and distributing candy while he went trick-or-treating with his mum. (Tip: Boredoms' "Super Roots" album makes excellent Hallowe'en music, if the reactions of the kids coming up my walk were anything to go by.)
The kids were, as expected, amazingly cute, dressed up as a chicken (his choice! —isn't that great??) and a butterfly, respectively. The weird part was, there didn't seem to be too many kids coming to the door. What's with that? We got maybe 20 kids the whole night—and my neighbourhood's chock full of littl'uns. I wasn't the only one who noticed this; several IRC friends noted a similar paucity of short becostumed folk demanding candy from the neighbours in other cities.
So what's the deal? Are parents more protective of their kids, and not letting them go out trick-or-treating like they used to? Are people ashamed of the money they don't have (or don't choose to spend) on the rediculously overpriced costumes that seem to be the only available option these days? Are kids being shepherded to organized costume parties instead of being escorted out to do the local rounds? Are parents perhaps just too darned busy between work and other commitments to accompany their kids on said rounds? In my neck of the woods, at least, Hallowe'en isn't just an excuse for the kids to go collect a year's supply of candy; it isn't, let's admit, a religious event anymore; it's also a chance for parents and kids to get out on the street at night and socialize with other parents and kids. What does it say about our communities if we're choosing to refrain from this chance to get out of our little boxes on the hillside and interact with the other people in our neighbourhoods in a delightfully informal, unstructured way?
Food for thought, indeed.