NaBloPoMo’12: A Scandal in Suburbia

Tonight was “make up Halloween” on my in-laws side of town, so while Charlie and I watched A Scandal in Belgravia, my mother-in-law sat in the wasp room (apparently, they’re having a problem with wasps (not the Protestant kind) in the house, and as such, have quarantined the living room), waiting for trick-or-treaters.

By the way, A Scandal in Belgravia was awesome, but I totally did an, “Oh, come on!!” at the end.

There were only 5 trick-or-treaters this year, a record-setting low for them.

Since moving out to Chestertucky, I think there have been a total of five trick-or-treaters in my whole tenure. Even Charlie, down in Ashland, only had one this year.

What happened to trick-or-treating? Have we replaced it with “trunk-or-treating” so that our kids are safer? Do kids just not trick-or-treat in lieu of having Halloween parties at school?

I look back on my time trick-or-treating with great fondness, having two huge blocks I could cover in an evening. And it was about showing of your costume to the neighbors (and for me, being the weirdo innocent voyeur I was, seeing how people lived by what I could see in through their front doors), and hoping you ran into friends so you could see their costumes.

And there’s part of me that thinks that if kids don’t have that now, that’s a bummer. I feel like they’re missing something vital to the fabric of their childhood. But I suppose that is the lament of those getting older. Experiences become different for each new generation, but maybe no less steeped with meaning.