11.01.05
Halloween Memories
Halloween is over. When I was a kid, Halloween was one of my favorite holidays. Now that I live in a building with a security door, sometimes I barely notice it. But reading this Fark thread reminded me of a few of my favorite Halloween stories, and since it’s been a while since I’ve shared these stories online (and also a while since I’ve posted anything on this blog), I thought I’d take a few minutes to type up some of my favorite Halloween memories.
Several years ago, when I was in high school, my dad and I decided we were tired of giving out candy to the same kids I went to school with. So in addition to the usual assortment of candies that year, we bought a couple armloads of Libby’s Potted Meat Food Product. If you’ve never seen it (check the canned meat section of your local supermarket, near the SPAM), it looks kind of like spreadable vienna sausage paste. There are several brands available, but Libby’s won us over with its combination of low price (fifty-nine cents a can, if I recall correctly) and disgusting ingredients (my favorite: “cooked partially defatted pork fatty tissue”). We kind of buried it under the real candy and palmed it as we dropped it into the high school kids’ bags—still, one can of it was sitting on the doorstep the next day, and frankly it’s a miracle that no cans came flying through the window that night.
The year after that my cousin and I took over the Halloween duties, and after much thought we decided on a Christmas theme. We bought Santa hats, played a “Reggae Christmas” CD I found somewhere, and handed out candy canes. Most kids thought it was pretty funny. One little girl, probably about three years old, was petrified when we threw open the door and yelled “Merry Christmas!” We then balanced a two-pound fruitcake on her plastic pumpkin. She remained rooted to the spot until her father picked her up and carried her away. We also gave some kid a one-pound marzipan pig mounted on its own cutting board, and another got a framed certificate for Excellence in Costume Design.
The next year we toned it down a little bit. Fewer and fewer kids were trick-or-treating, and we knew we wouldn’t be able to unload as much stuff. Toward the end of the night we actually went for a walk, found a group of kids, and promised we’d give them everything we had left. They followed us home, where in addition to dumping about a pound of candy into each of their bags we gave one a whole smoked trout. They went quiet for a moment, and then one said, “Oh, this is where Laura got that award last year.” That warmed our hearts.
But the next year was our last. I think we got fewer than twenty trick-or-treaters all night, most of them high schoolers in street clothes with a mask or a little fake blood. We gave sardines and bouillon cubes to those slackers, but our hearts weren’t in it anymore.
I realize I’m a little young for nostalgia, but Halloween just isn’t what it used to be, and I for one blame the parents. When I was a kid, no one thought twice about sending three or four kids out alone, after dark, to beg for candy from complete strangers. These days that doesn’t happen much anymore, and yet the crime rate is actually lower than it was back then. I think parents have been watching too many TV cop dramas. And now what am I supposed to do with all this potted meat?
02.27.05
How Unfortunate!
One of the coolest things I’ve seen in months is The Unfortunate Animal of the Month Club. For a mere $39/month (for the highest level of service—there are cheaper levels), you get a … shall we say … remixed stuffed animal, handmade to your specifications: options include two heads, two bodies sharing a head, “headflop”, or even something incorporating real animal parts. Baby-safe versions are available, too.
02.24.05
I Am So Using This
Apparently passengers viewing Sideways on international flights have noticed a rather creative insult spilling from Best Supporting Actor nominee Thomas Haden Church’s mouth. Apparently where theater-goers hear “asshole,” the censored version substitutes “Ashcroft.” Brilliant. I have a new favorite insult.
01.30.05
Damn You, Dunham
My TiVo nabbed a bunch of episodes of Comedy Central Presents for me this weekend, which was good—sure, they’re hit and miss in terms of quality, but every once in a while you get a Lewis Black or or a Dom Irrera or maybe an Arj Barker, and that makes up for the dreck you get the rest of the time. Anyway, one of the comedians I saw today was Jeff Dunham. The Joneses and Smiths among you might not understand this, but I get kind of excited when I see someone with my surname. It doesn’t happen often—in fact, I don’t think I’ve ever met someone in person who had my last name and wasn’t related to me.
Anyway, I was prepared to laugh, but as it turned out Jeff Dunham is a spectacularly bad ventriloquist. He had several puppets, with different voices and mannerisms for each, but not a funny or original joke the whole show. He actually thought it would be a good idea to steal the dentist bit from Bill Cosby, Himself, cut out all the funniest punchlines, and put it in the mouth of a purple muppet-like creature with no teeth. And he wasn’t any good at the technical aspect of ventriloquism, either.
All I can hope for at this point is that he doesn’t become famous and create a stain on a perfectly good family name—the way I assume Carrot Top has done for all the Tops of the world. I don’t want to have to change my name just to avoid the uncomfortable “are you related to…” moments.
Best. Bumper Sticker. Ever.
Saw this bumper sticker on a car in front of my apartment building on Friday:
01.25.05
Approach the Bench
No player hater I, but I must confess I would have felt a touch of embarrassment bringing this case before the court—even in Louisiana. Still, it provides an amusing respite from a rather stressful day.
