Tag: Halloween

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The King

He took a deep breath. Then against his better judgement, my brother walked into the Managing Director’s office wearing a professional-grade Elvis impersonator suit. What happened next was most unexpected.

For context, our family does own a high-end Elvis impersonator suit: rhinestones, bell-bottoms, wig, faux gator-skin shoes, cape, rings. The whole deal. Every family needs one.

I purchased the suit in San Francisco. I needed it for a play I was in while living overseas. On my last day in town I asked my friend, a San Francisco native, “Are there any shops around here where I might purchase an Elvis costume?” He looked at me with a mix of surprise and disappointment. Such a dumb question.

With a roll of his eyes he speed-dialed a costume shop. “Ramone”, he said. “I need an Elvis costume right away”. There was silence on our end as Ramone responded.

“No…”, said my friend as he looked at me and winked, “…probably more the sweaty, pudgy comeback years.” Ouch. Guilty as charged.

We headed to the shop and I purchased the costume. It saw good service in the play.

Years later, working in Washington, DC, I brought the costume out of retirement. It was Halloween. I changed into the suit in my office and walked around my floor at work handing out candy. It was that sort of workplace. Frankly, it has been that sort of career.

By contrast, my brother worked at a high-octane DC law firm just up the street. We met for lunch and I mentioned my morning Halloween Elvis escapade. He got a glint in his eye. He walked back with me to my office and borrowed the costume.

And so it came to be that my brother suited up as The King and delivered candy throughout his law firm to people billing $1,000 per hour for legal services. The other attorneys were stunned, bemused, horrified. One actually asked him, “Is this being done on billable time?” Then my brother went for it.

The King took the elevator up to the top floor where the Managing Director had his palatial corner office. My brother approached the receptionist. She looked at him and said “You are either on the fast track to being a partner, or he is going to fire your ass”. My brother said “Thankyaverymush” and then gave her some candy.

He knocked on the Managing Director’s door and entered, singing out “Trick or Treat!” in a deep Elvis voice. Time stood still. Then the partner leapt from his desk and exclaimed with glee, “NO WAY!” It turns out, and nobody knew this, he was a huge Elvis fan. He got several selfies taken with The King. Then my brother returned to obscurity within the bowels of the firm. But not before he became a legend.

 

[If you know someone else who might enjoy a lighthearted story to begin their week, kindly forward them the link to WordsfortheWeary. The more the merrier.]

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Le Halloween

Halloween is the one day each year when I miss my home in North America more than any other. Halloween in Europe reminds me that I am a stranger in a strange land.

Halloween is about empowerment. Kids are encouraged to be someone else, to ask boldly of strangers. By contrast, two teenagers stood on our doorstep in Belgium some years ago. They were dressed as bedsheet ghosts, the lamest of costumes.  They mumbled “Tricks or Treats”. Clearly novices. I gently pointed out that (a) I had no candy, because (b) it was October 29th so, wrong night, and (c) it was technically the singular, Trick or Treat, no “s”. But they only spoke Flemish. So things sort of broke down at that point. I gave them some apples. We looked awkwardly at one another through the eye-holes in their sheets before they wandered off.

Halloween is about excess: mountains of candy, over the top decorations, sugar-induced meltdowns. These are not only tolerated, but celebrated. Europeans are just hardwired not to go there. Tonight we placed our jack-o-lantern and a bowl of candy at the far end of our long Swiss laneway. Several times this evening I walked out to replenish the bowl. I need not have bothered. Apparently each Swiss child only took one candy each. Only one item from an unsupervised bowl of free candy? Come on! That would NEVER happen at home. Where I come from, this is what happens.

Halloween is about being unselfconscious, both for kids and parents alike. But our Euro-neighbors never let it all hang out. They stand together in svelte black slacks eating canapé and sipping wine while their kids circulate politely around the neighborhood. By contrast, my neighbor in Maryland used to rig a microphone to a speaker hidden in the pumpkin at the end of his driveway. As trick-or-treaters approached his home, to their delight the pumpkin would comment on their wonderful costumes. But in the spirit of unselfconscious excess, this neighbor also hit the booze pretty hard on Halloween. As the night progressed, the talking pumpkin became more belligerent. Alas, no drunken pumpkins in Europe.

Halloween is an intoxicating mix of fun and fear. At the consulate in Switzerland, Marines in camo hide in a darkened hallway that leads to the family Halloween party-room. They step out of the shadows as families pass down the hall. The result is lots of screams and more than one soiled unicorn costume. Take that, Geneva Convention!

I truly love living in Europe. But on Halloween, I miss my home.

 

Bonus – This just in from stateside friends as this blog post went to press: I had to stop tricks or treatsing early this year because I spilled my red wine all over the head and back of my youngest in her stroller. Don’t worry, the Asian costume makers didn’t use cotton, so the polywhateveritwas fabric didn’t absorb the red wine. Add that to the fact that the costume was way too big for her anyways, and that magic means she can wear it again next year! Woot!!! I’m totally winning at this parenting gig, let me tell you!

 

[If you know someone else who might enjoy a lighthearted story to begin their week, kindly forward them the link to WordsfortheWeary. The more the merrier.]

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Halloween – 06/11/2017

Things went bad one Halloween when my niece pooped in her lion costume. She was only two, so what are you going do? But the outfit is a one-piece, necessitating a messy and difficult extraction even for veteran parents. My sister-in-law was forced to do an emergency pit-stop in our living room to initiate the clean-up.

We were also joined by a dear family member who has dementia. In the face of this horrible disease, our family has treasured moments of levity as they come along. Such it was to be this Halloween.

When the doorbell rang the family member would instinctively open the door. She would then stand there silent, confused by the throngs of costumed children. But the moment someone yelled “trick or treat”, recognition would radiate across her face. Her eyes sparkled as she would exclaim with surprise and enthusiasm, “Why, it must be Halloween!”  Finding the candy bowl, she would dish out liberal portions to the kids, and then help herself to a chocolate bar.

This cycle repeated itself dozens of times throughout the evening. Each group of trick-or-treaters was a brand new experience for her: doorbell, confusion, recognition, an enthusiastic exclamation of “Why, it must be Halloween!”, and then another chocolate bar. She must have eaten 20 before the night was through.

At one point our pre-teen daughter arrived back from trick or treating, dragging with her a pack of pre-teen girls engaged in pre-teen drama. They had elected to go out together all dressed as pieces of fruit. Apparently the banana had teased the apple about some part of her costume. The apple began to cry. Then the banana felt guilty, so she began to cry. Then the grape blamed the cherry for not stepping into the fray. So the entire fruit bowl began to cry. All the while said family member was circulating in the midst of the weeping fruit, dishing out candy while gleefully consuming yet another chocolate bar.

As my niece slipped back into her lion costume her older brother, dressed as the Pope, managed to catch his finger in our screen door. So at one moment in time our living room boasted a screaming pope, my sister-in-law trying to contain the fallout, weeping tween-age fruit, my beleaguered wife, a niece dressed as a lion who smelled like some unholy combination of stale poop and sugar, and a family member with dementia and an ear-to-ear grin, vibrating from excess chocolate consumption.

The very next batch of kids to ring the doorbell saw the chaotic throng in our living room. They decided the party must be inside, so in they came! I hope that everyone had a great Halloween this year!

 

[If you know others who might enjoy a lighthearted story to begin their week, please feel free to forward them the link to WordsfortheWeary. The more the merrier!]