Rock Hard

Hello World, Happy Halloween! The ghouls and goblins were out in force on Tuesday, lending just the right air of spookiness to the occasion, and giving us all a chance to encounter witches and monsters on a personal basis, hopefully of the pint-size variety, and not otherwise. (Or perhaps that should be “other-worldly,” under the circumstances.) Anyone in the local area can tell you that the weather around here has been all over the map, since I don't know when, and it does no good to complain, heaven knows. But for the purposes of trick-or-treating, the weather on Tuesday was remarkably good, all things considered, with conditions that were clear as a bell and a bit cool, without being too cold for comfort. Back in the day, the dinosaurs and I would have considered this tailor-made for traipsing around the neighborhood in costumes, and that’s not just the candy corn talking, believe me. It's at times like this that I actually most miss working at the old Employer of Last Resort, where dressing up and parading around the campus for the entertainment of colleagues and visitors usually turned out to be a veritable barrel of monkeys from beginning to end. It's true that I could certainly wear a costume to the garage where I'm working now, but since I basically only see at most 2 other people all week, it really would not be the same thing at all. But I do get home earlier than I used to, so I have some extra time to get ready for doorbell-ringing revelers, which is good in its own way, I suppose. Of course, I make sure to leave a bowl of candy in the vestibule early in the morning anyway, in case anyone stops by before I get home to begin with. After that, the first order of business is always clearing all the clutter off of the front porch, and then sweeping off the steps and walk for unwary visitors, especially in the dark and perhaps wearing masks and the like. On the inside, I set up a table by the door with a Halloween tablecloth, bowl of candy, pad and pencil, and other necessities, plus moving stuff out of the line of fire, like boxes of paper recycling or 50 pounds of ice melt, thanks not. Once that's out of the way, I tuck into a "hurry-up" bagel for dinner, and stay near the door for any early birds on the prowl while it's still light out. I find that they usually don't start coming around until about 6:00 PM or so, and luckily I'm generally finished with my preparations by then. True to form, my first callers were at 6:15 PM, with a toddler dressed as a baby faun, who was just way too adorable for words, I assure you. I won't say they came thick and fast after that, but we had reached 20 by 7:00 PM, which I thought was a good sign. Let's face it, all of that Halloween candy wasn't going to eat itself, after all. In an interesting weather-related anomaly, I realized when I was sweeping twigs and seed pods off the steps and sidewalk that there really weren't any leaves to speak of, since they were mostly still on the trees due to the unseasonably warm weather - in fact, even before the 31st, the meteorologists had said this was well on its way to being the warmest October on record, since they first began keeping records back in the Stone Age. (It was Thak who invented the Weather Rock, so that if it was wet, you knew it was raining, or if it was swinging, you knew it was windy, and if you couldn't see it, then it was night. He was truly ahead of his time.) I hadn't realized up until then how much I counted on the copious carpet of dead leaves underfoot to alert me of costumed travelers coming my way, because I could hear their feet crackling through the fallen leaves all the way from the end of the driveway, giving me plenty of time to get up and make it to the door ahead of them, without trying to out-pace Olympic track star Usain Bolt, and vault over the furniture to get there. Fortunately, I had some luck with a different sort of early warning system, and that was our corral of cosseted kitties, who it must be said, rarely exhibit any useful qualities whatsoever, and if we're being honest, ordinarily go in quite the opposite direction altogether, and once again, thanks so very much not. But with their superior hearing abilities, even from inside the house, they heard the faintest sounds of approaching strangers, and instantaneously flew out of wherever they were, to get out of harm's way while the getting was good. They were right on the mark every time, and all I had to do was hear mad scrambling cat paws, to know it was time to head for the door. In retrospect, it's easy to say, "I love it when a plan comes together," but this was more or less a serendipitous coincidence every step of the way. This apparently was not a year of a break-out must-have costume, so the field was wide open for whatever else anyone wanted to choose. Of course, nowadays there are so many costumes based on contemporary movies, toys, or video games that I just don't recognize (like Paw Patrol, The Descendants, or Zhu Zhu pets) and even when they try to explain to me who they are, it's still nothing but gibberish to me. Alert readers may recall the congenial Emmett from down the block, who was wearing one of these unrecognizable costumes (might have been something called "Dementor" from the Harry Potter books) but who announced himself by name, so as to make sure that I knew it was him under all that. I was surprised to have only 1 Spiderman, 1 Flash, and 1 Supergirl as my only super heroes, without a single Batman in sight, for a change. "Star Wars" was represented by Luke Skywalker, Yoda, and 2 young ladies as the irrepressible Rey. There was 1 witch, 1 Tinkerbell, 1 M&M, a cat, a monkey, Minnie Mouse, 2 zombies, and 5 skeletons. I think my favorite was a youngster who was improbably dressed as a 1950’s waitress (and was likely herself born in 2007, if that) and I told her flat out that she was way too young to understand anything about that costume, including the pointy "cat eye" frame glasses and the requisite pencil stuck strategically in her hair bun. It was actually pretty funny in its own merrily anachronistic way. Although I was prepared to wait it out longer, it was basically all over by 8:45 PM, like turning off a switch, and everyone out there mysteriously and telepathically all heads for hearth and home at the same moment. Well, that is except for a late surge of 5 un-costumed youths just after 9:00, who jovially declared themselves to be variously “college students” or “male models,” and apparently not too old (or jaded) to indulge in the age-old joys of the season from their youth, once again. Of course, I'm happy to recognize the importance of higher education, and they were more than welcome to some fun-size candy treats to sustain them in their studies, however arduous (or not) they might be. After the dust had finally settled, we had a disappointing turn-out of only 38 visitors all told, especially considering that the weather was so fine. It was easily the worst numbers in any year without a significant weather event, like Superstorm Sandy in 2012, or the terrorist attacks in 2001, and a far cry from the 100+ throngs that we used to see back in the good old days. (Well, 1998 and 1999, anyway.) Now I find myself stuck with bags full of left-over Halloween candy, and no vultures in the Purchasing department to pounce upon it at work, as in previous times, often cleaning out the whole kit and kaboodle before lunch, by golly. In any case, that was our holiday from the old homestead, and at least nobody fell off the porch and swallowed up by the rampant alien mutant poison ivy, never to be seen again, and I ought to know. At this point, I realize that I can't see the Weather Rock, so I know it must be late, and I should wrap this up. If you're on the hunt for left-over candy, try your local hospital - although if it's anything like here, be prepared to fight off the vultures for it. Tell them Thak sent you. Elle