Tuesday, October 25, 2005

There's No-one In, Bugger Off!

It's with an audible groan that I'm beginning to realise that soon, the most awful kiddie celebration will be upon us. I absolutely hate Hallowe'en, the only celebratory date where everyone is expected to take an interactive role whether they like it or not. It was with this somewhat curmudgeonly frame of mind that three years ago, almost to the day - though obviously having just experienced it, I wrote this down...
November 1st 2002 (roughly)

"At any time in the last few months anyone with any awareness of my uneven working patterns combined with a knowledge of my peripatetic life would have concluded that the likelihood of my being in the house at six thirty on the evening of 31 October would have been remote to say the least.

Six thirty, I should explain seems to be the most active time period around here for youngsters celebrating Hallowe'en, or, as it should be renamed: 'that great annual fun and mischief-fuelled front door extortion racket'. Clusters of fresh-faced, theatrically uglified, pocket-sized ghouls ghosties and goblins gathered to celebrate in the only way they know how. Seemingly at six thirty precisely, troupes of whipped up, highly excited children proceeded to hoot and whoop their intrusive way to every front door, entrance, and window in the neighborhood: A granny's-chest ransacking of jaggy black gowns, remodeled hats and garish sequins.

This year, forces of randomness, happenstance, coincidence and bad luck conspired and compelled me to be in the house at that precise time. And I was going to have to endure.

Looking like stunted escapees from a cheesy fairground ghost-train or house of horrors, the little tyrants with their luminous skeleton and boggle eyed masks (from out of which peeped angelic though greedy eyes) shrieked, cackled, zombied and annoyed their way into the peaceful lives of everyone else. And then demanded money from anyone foolish enough to open an impatiently knocked door in an effort to show a good-natured, if pained interest. The justification behind the payment for their fun,( the film ET has much to answer for) the morally dubious convention of "trick or treat." The rules are simple, you either pay or you suffer the consequences. The price of not paying results in a messy car, window, house, or face hit involving a modern witches brew of eggs, shaving foam and crazy string.

Funny? Well it seems there can be no sympathy for a skinflint. Likely victims either hand out the dosh or run the risk of the tightwad and suffer a rude and unwelcome ' trick.' I paid. With handfuls of pocket wrecking and these days virtually useless coppers placed aside for the purpose. A strategy that seemed to work - the satisfying tinkle-rattle of fistfuls of coinage crashing together in jars, hats and other receptacles was sufficient to keep these mini, demonised entrepreneurs on side. But I still wish I'd been out."

And I'll make sure I am this year. Little shits.

NB. Hmm that was an easy blog to do. I'm turning into a lazy as well as miserable git.

Comments:
i deeply resent the explosion in popularity of trick or fucking treat. horrible, grasping little mercenary bastards.

move to a flat - it works a treat (apart from on the other 364 days of the year when there's no halloween smugness to dilute the irritation of being surrounded by noisy stupid people).
 
Hey! Don't waste your time here when there's a party going on at yours!
 
You could move to a dodgy estate - nice parents won't let their kids come knocking on our door, sensible people don't answer the door after dark unless they know who it is & the fact that we may get eggs/fireworks/etc thrown at the house is not reserved for Halloween.

I don't understand, & certainly don't approve of the rise in unsolicited begging over the last few years. theoretically they should all be arrested, but somehow I don't see that happening.

We'll be off partying like proper Brits - in the warm. No sgtreet walking for me & mine!
 
i am going to be 'out' (i.e. sitting in darkness in my downstairs room blogging)

ah...i'm positively looking forward to it now
 
The kids round our way haven't yet resorted to violent tactics (yet) Last year they shoved a plastic spider through the door, even though I'd taped cardboard around the letter box "just in case" they attempted to deposit something horrible through it. Fingers crossed, I'll be able to build up a collection of plastic spiders in the years ahead.
 
Several neighbours already have signs up saying "No Trick or Teaters" "Trick or Treaters will be shot" or just plain Foxtrot Oscar

Gonna be making my patented Pumpkin shaped landmines for teh little beggars this evening....

KER-BOOOOOOOMMMMM
 
Ahh! Kindred spirits all. What was once a quaint British celebration -a good natured spook-fest of apple ducking, Edgar Allan Poe stories around a crackling fire and baleful pumkin faces is now a rude extortion racket. I absolutely hate it.

So turn up the gas fire and the telly volume Mrs A, batten down the hatches and don the tin helmet UC, tether the dog by the letter box betty - fingers on the menu for fido, and blow some of the little bastards up for me Ag.
 
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