If the forecast for Halloween night is correct, it looks like it might be a bit brisk for the costumed kiddos going door to door in search of copious amounts of candy.
You know what I say to those concerned about the cold?
Quit being a bunch of whiners.
Here comes an “In my day …” rant:
In my day, chest-high snow faced us when we walked out of our homes to solicit candy from strangers on Halloween night.
I remember the blizzard of 1991 well, because I was out in the midst of it, not to be deterred in my venture to bag pounds of goodies I planned to ingest in one sitting the next day.
My sister and I – accompanied by our parents – went out into the storm in search of the aforementioned candy.
I fared better than she did.
She wanted to be a gypsy – a costume that entailed an assortment of light, glittery clothing easily pierced by the cold.
Due to the likelihood of her freezing to death while wearing this costume, my mother insisted she don a winter coat, snow pants, boots, hat and gloves.
She looked more like a bedazzled snowmobiler than a gypsy.
I, on the other hand, was quite prepared for the elements.
I had decided to be the Devil, which one just assumes would be a warm costume because most people associate the Devil with infernos.
The costume was indeed quite snug – it was like a one-piece, insulated snowsuit.
Sure, I had to wear gloves and boots, but that was it.
I was cold, but it was bearable with the Prince of Darkness outfit hugging my body.
The costume also came with a plastic pitchfork, which was quite handy because I was able to use it to keep my balance while wading through towering snowdrifts.
My sister and I were rewarded for the tenacity we showed in making it to the houses offering candy.
Those homeowners filled our faux pumpkin buckets with assortments of tasty sweets – none of that gag-worthy stuff like anise-flavored candy or those little packets of crackers combined with tubs of barely palatable cheese.
It was the most memorable Halloween I’ve had to date.
Other Halloweens stand out in my memory – like the one when I went out with a group of older boys and they left me behind, which made me use my ingenuity and sense of direction to find my way back to the house where we started our night (note: I have only a shred of both ingenuity and sense of direction).
But I digress, back to Halloween weather.
I remember the rest of the Halloweens when I went out trick-or-treating, and I’m fairly certain all of them had some kind of extreme weather element like freezing rain, unseasonable cold or destructive, straight-line winds.
It’s a wonder I survived.
But my taste for candy won out, and I braved the elements to secure the delectable, fun-sized morsels.
But I whined to my parents about the weather just about every Halloween until the candy collecting was over.
Disregard the intro to this column. I’m a hypocrite.