”Trick or treat.”
A nine year old zombie beekeeper had come into the coffee shop to trick or treat and gained the attention of everyone present. Driving around town it is just one of those days were you see Kimono clad adults and people in doctor scrubs who are nowhere near a hospital. Mostly, though, this year it seems to be all about the zombie.
Take any basic costume- bride, princess, fairy, jester. Rip it up a little. Add makeup- white face paint, big dark smudges under the eyes, hallow cheeks. And you have a zombie. It raises the cool factor by a ton and allows you to repurpose past costumes. What could be better?
But… I miss the days of sweet princesses and cowboys knocking on my door. As I write this I am sitting at EVOE, my favorite restaurant in Portland, talking with Kevin Gibson about Halloween. “Do you get trick or treaters?” I ask. He shrugs. “We live in an upstairs apartment. We used to get kids being dropped off in vans who would come by. That was okay. But now it is fifteen year olds all in black. I ask them what they are and they tell me ax murderers. It’s not my thing.”
Kevin is a master of understatement… whether it is about his phenomenal food or terrible teenagers. I keep hoping if I hang out I might catch some of his calm (definitely the wine helps with this.) So far, though, I think I overwhelm him with my enthusiasm.
“Are you trick or treating?” he asks me.
“Why do you think I am here?” I smile… and hope he gives me an extra glass of the Barbera D’Asti.
Whatever and wherever your Halloween leads, I hope it is filled with more treats than tricks.
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