Dancing In the Streets

What the hell happened to Halloween this year? There I was in my Giant Hot Sauce Bottle with 20 pounds of candy, prepared to do my Rockettes routine for every fledgling witch and bonsai Spiderman who came knocking to the door. But we only got about twenty trick or treaters, and they were mostly teenagers who hadn’t even bothered to dress up. It is simply no fun at all to be a dancing Giant Hot Sauce Bottle for teenagers.

Has Osama bin Laden ruined Halloween forever?

We mostly bought candy that Ben and I don’t like so we wouldn’t end up eating half of it ourselves. So now we’re stuck with ten pounds of Tootsie Rolls and Dots.

“Give it to the homeless,” suggested Robin (above as Janis Joplin) who maintains a rather Victorian attitude towards the under classes, involving beneficent handouts from the back porch of the imaginary mansion we live in.

“The homeless already have bad teeth,” I said. “I don’t want to contribute to their dental woes.”

All in all, a disappointing ending to a disappointing month. In particular, sales at the store this last week have been horrible and the whack-a-mole game I play with my bills is fraught with risk and derring-do. It’s gotta be the political situation. The presidential race hangs over all of us like a shroud. Forty-eight hours from now half the electorate will be dancing in the streets – without the benefit of a Giant Hot Sauce Bottle – while the other half will be huddled up in front of their news outlet of choice, renting their garments, anointing their foreheads with attar of ashes, making great moan.

“Either way, next weekend should be great!” says Ben hopefully.

We shall see.

I mailed my absentee ballot Friday. I connected the broken arrow next to Kerry’s name with my number two pencil. It was an ABB – Anybody But Bush – vote since I don’t actually see much difference between the two candidates. The war will continue. Under Kerry, perhaps it will escalate more slowly. But once the Saudi royal family goes down, it all goes up in flame. Then cut to credits while Simon and Garfuncle in long white robes and angel wings croon, “Hello darkness, my old friend…”