Welcome! This is my first post on a difficult journey. A path toward humour, a path beaten by many great men and women which I admire and to which I aspire. Public speaking and writing often inspires fear of laughter (born of ridicule). When you seek to create humour the fear is lack of laughter.
Did anyone else mistake the Canadian federal election for Hallowe'en?
People canvassing houses offering treats in exchange for support. Lots of nasty tricks, too. I'm not sure the carpet of campaign signs was more attractive than toilet paper in the trees.
The costumed hordes included clowns, knights and few costumes too subtle or confusing to figure out unless you're also a 43rd level paladin in world of warcraft. You just have to be polite and nod.
Some of the visiting kids wouldn't speak, not wanting to give away their disguises. Or perhaps they were scared of the bully. You know, that one kid you could tell was waiting to steal their candy; his blue sweater wasn't much of a costume. He liked to tease the other kids and throw eggs at houses. Still, even he had some tender words about his mother... or perhaps he was really Norman Bates?
Sometimes you come across a house that only offers healthy, nutritious, organically grown treats. They even have a fancy home-made wrap to make them look attractive. But we know the kids get wise to that fast, put a chalk mark in front of the house and avoid it just like the graveyard.
Another house had lots of big, bright orange pumpkins outside. They were giving away full-size chocolate bars, the real good stuff. And they had a bigger turn out than they've had in years.
Then there was the house of horrors that one really enthusiastic house sets up. This year they really outdid themselves. It was over on the corner of Wall St. and Bay St. Truly scary, apocalyptic end-of-the-world-as-we-know it stuff. Vampires and werewolves wanted to take a bite from my RRSP. I expected to see legions of zombies searching for "brains", but they starved to death (undeath?).
When you get home and dump the haul on the kitchen table, you look it over. Your parents throw away anything that's not in store-bought packages (and anything with a Maple Leaf logo, too). Same candy as usual. Still, the pile is bigger than last year - 38 treats of sugary junk to rot your teeth and lower your IQ. And no nutrition facts displayed on the side either.
Well, I must go now. I'm getting a headache as I come down off a $300 million sugar rush.