Ah, the most wonderful time of the year... now that summer means nothing because I'm not in school.
Seriously though, you walk outside to beautiful weather. The sun is pleasant instead of oppressive, the air is crisp, the degrees are in the sixties, and the smell of everything is just so nostalgic... reminiscent of a time when Halloween was so magical that just pulling the box of decorations out of the attic was like the first Christmas of the year. Also, Saturdays just burst into life with college football, and though the Texans are a bit disappointing this year, at least ESPN has something to show other than difficult but repetitive baseball highlights because the NFL is in full swing and the NBA just launched. And now calls to family always include plans for Christmas. It's that time of year too. Bust out the Bing or the Harry or the Muppets or the Manheim or the TSO, whatever gets you in the mood for that one season that people actually don't think just about themselves all the time.
So why don't I care much for that "holiday" called Halloween? It's been more of a "my dad's birhtday" than a "glorified set of traditions that were great in elementary, died in high school, but came back in force in college because we all suddenly realized we loved our childhoods" for the last decade for me. I want to touch on that decade a bit to try and explain:
My senior year in high school, I remember going to play football against the Boling Bulldogs with one, Carlton Waddy--I remember his name, yes, and the feeling of his and his whole team's cleats on my face as I pulled grass out of my face mask play after play. That game really defined my role, not as outside linebacker, but as "speed-bump." Even the coach told me, "Martin, this is a rough game for you." What can you do when the guys you are going up against way an average of 45 pounds more than you do? Go for the knees!
For all the college Halloweens, including freshman year pre-mission, I can sum it up with iffy dance parties and everybody and their dogs going out in couples to haunted houses or scary movies and crap. This is probably the biggest deal that marginalized Halloween for me--three words, one alliteration: bitter BYU bachelor. Crap, I just published that shameful bit... With that in mind, Halloween is only number two on the list of least favorite holidays; it should be pretty obvious what number one is.
Mission Halloweens don't really count because they were just another day wherein we worked hard and then went home early so people didn't egg us in their chaotic revelry.
Now post-BYU, Halloween hasn't been so bad. I spent the last one away from family, but the one before that I got to enjoy it with nephews and nieces in Texas, which helps to recapture some of the magic that defined it in my youth. Oh the ambivalence of nostalgia... how we humans crave such things! Or maybe that's just me...
Still (back to whining), I am amazed at how everyone puts so much creativity and resources into their costumes and the best thing I've come up with in the last decade was intramural referee... which really was just me walking home from work. I NEED MY ATTENTION PEOPLE!!
As such, as a sort of "sticking it to the pagan traditional man" statement, I carved a cantelope instead of a pumpkin.
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