I love Halloween. It conjures up all sorts of vivid childhood memories. Though none of them involve scary stuff like ghosts and goblins. No, not for me. Unless you count the horror I endured when I was ten and trick-or-treated a neighbor who handed out apples instead of candy. Yikes! I’m not ashamed to admit that shivered my timbers to the core.
But who could blame me. Miss Hildibrand broke the sacred trick-or-treating pact. That being: “Give trick-or-treaters candy, or turn off your lights and pretend you’re not home. But never ever hand out fruit or vegetables. For that is the ultimate Halloween sacrilege.”
That aside, all of my Halloween memories are delightful. And most of them involve candy. Oh, who’s kidding who? All of my All Hallows’ Eve memories are about candy. Especially chocolate—life’s greatest elixir.
Seriously. I can’t tell you how thrilled I was when a series of articles recently touted the health benefits of chocolate, with its antioxidants or whatever they say benefits the eater of man’s greatest culinary invention.
Now I don’t feel guilty when I devour a whole family-sized bag of Hershey’s nuggets. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a pig. I don’t eat them all at once. I spread the devouring out over a whole evening.
Well at least I used to. Those were the good old days. Now I can’t afford it. Have you seen the price of chocolate lately? Outrageous. And for that reason I’m re-entering the trick-or-treating ranks this Halloween after being away from the game for nearly half a century.
I figure I can amass a year’s worth of nightly chocolate binges if I can get an early start and cover enough ground to beat out the youngsters before they deplete our town’s chocolate reserves.
I can hear the haters now: “That’s wrong. You’re not a kid anymore.” Well, yes, I am retired and on Medicare. “So what,” I say. I’m righting a wrong. Age discrimination is a horrible thing. Trick-or-treating shouldn’t just be for the young. I’m championing it for the elderly. After all, we’re on a fixed income and shouldn’t be deprived just because our social security check can’t be stretched to afford a chocolate stockpile.
I’m proud to be pioneering this. Not that I’m going to show my face while doing so. I’m not stupid. Just in case the candy-giving public objects to an old fart like me coming to their door with my AARP bag held out, I’ll be hiding my identity under a bed-sheet ghost costume. After all, it worked for ET. That way, the pitchfork- and torch-wielding public won’t be able to pick me out in a line-up.
Also, to ensure success I’m taking advantage of the latest technology. I’ve downloaded an interactive, localized app that will highlight all the homes giving out chocolate. And to cover the most in the shortest time, since my feet aren’t as fleet as they used to be, I’m borrowing a too-fat-to-walk-while-shopping-a-megastore scooter. That way I should be able to hit all the spread-out chocolate-giving homes before they run out.
So who’s with me out there in Elderly Land? Are we going to stay at home this Halloween while yelling at the kids to get off our lawn? Or are we going to rise up and go for the free chocolate? After all, together we stand, divided we fall… And can’t get up.
Oh, and before I forget, I’d like to invite you to visit my writer’s group site for our 2015 Addictive Reads’ Halloween Favorites Event. That way you can see what Halloween Favorites my fellow writers are sharing. Plus, you can enter our Rafflecopter give-away and possibly win a cool prize.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to go. There’s more work to be done on my Halloween disguise, I mean costume.