Halloween in my youth was exclusively for us children. In costume we fearlessly walked the streets after dark in search of candy and an occasional apple bob. The fiend hiding in the bushes we knew was just another kid trying to scare us. True, parents told of reports from New York and other bastions of sin of goodies with needles and razor blades, but this was often just an excuse to throw out half our hoard “for our safety.”
Today, many kids are ushered around in groups by concerned moms and dads before dangerous sundown. More importantly, the holiday has been enthusiastically adopted by adults.
To the delight of local merchants costume parties, parades and light-hearted deviltry are in full swing.
Has this trend wormed its way into the gay community? Did the chicken cross the road?
Guys and gals, it’s that time again. Live out your secret fantasy. You can always claim all the other costumes your size were taken.
Last year, there were countless fantastic, gorgeous costumes. Many of the best were home-made, especially the imaginative comedy ones.
Personally, the best were my friends – an ultra-butch lesbian couple in full drag: huge wigs, sexy, slinky dresses, wild glam make-up, high heels and the ultimate sacrifice, shaved legs. To their delight they walked around completely unrecognized. Later they confessed they were wearing their jockey shorts.
So monsters and aliens, trick and treat the night away; kings and queens strut your stuff; nuns and fairies pin on the donkey’s tail (or whatever); ghouls and goblins bob for apples (or whatever).
Have a great time, but know your limit: don’t drive drunk and, please, stay safe and play safe.
Twitter or Tweet
I have been asked, begged and demanded to “twit.” I have continued to refuse due to the mess it makes of the social niceties. I hate to see two people having lunch “together,” yet they are constantly talking on their phone or twitting (Tweeting? twittering? Whatever! You know what I mean!) They both report they are having lunch together; yet hardly a word is exchanged as they wrestle with phones and forks.
Amazingly, neither seems to mind. I guess those are today’s acceptable table manners and social interaction. How sad. They miss the fun of talking, chatting, laughing, telling stories, discussing, communicating; in other words, getting to know each other. Imagine a marriage after such a courtship.
Of course the restaurant noise might contribute to the problem. This is one of the main complaints among my older generation. The younger people don’t seem to care, in fact, the noise shows it is an “in” place and naturally that is where they must be. So I watch and marvel at the speed of their flying fingers.
Once, as I noticed their giggles and facial reactions, it dawned on me they were twitting each other! This absurdity, coupled with the pounding, wall-vibrating rhythms of the music and the screaming incomprehensible lyrics, had me fleeing to the street, glad that I will not be here when the next great social medium takes over the civilized world.
