Lots of blogs to read that will give background on Halloween.
As a child I think I only Trick or Treated once. Don’t know why, just the way it was. It all seemed a bit odd to me. In some ways it still does.
Mind you I love an excuse for going all theatrical and being in character. My Arfy the Wonder Dog was a hit and I loved the whole experience.
But it goes back to what we know as the yardstick for the norm.
Case in point. Saturday afternoon, around 3 p.m., James and I are in Los Olivos. We find ourselves scouting for a return trip with friends. Olive oil and wine tasting opportunities abound. James takes a flight with port tastings.
We wander around and there in the very middle of the major intersection of the roads, the cross roads I guess, is a group or a herd or a gaggle of revelers in what from a distance looks like a flash mob.
James goes off to investigate and I wander into a shop.
A teen aged girl shares that the group is dancing to Thriller. That she is saddened because they can’t go and dance in front of the gate of Neverland. She expresses a real loss of tradition.
Click, lightbulb goes on.
So her norm, and the norm of other teens, was to go to Michael Jackson’s ranch and dance Thriller on Halloween. How beautifully fitting. How sad for her that it is now just a memory.
As for me, my new norm, with grandchildren far away, is to work on a presentation and then soon take a cue from Panfil. He holds on tight to his traditions.