If a place can build an entire festival, nay, several festivals around chowder, you’d think it would go all out for holidays. And while that may still be true – I’ve heard they throw a wicked Election Day here – what I’ve seen of Halloween in the suburbs doesn’t bode well.
Halloween is, apologies to Kwanzaa, where a town shows its true colors. I will shake the hand of any citizen who takes this holiday seriously. Anyone who skins a grape to feel like an eyeball, dons a hook for a hand or jumps out of bushes to scare the hell out of kids -- put ‘er there. Really, anything short of putting razors in apples is fair game. But we’re talking about an entire town that puts up unicorns and candy canes. What does that even mean? Are we celebrating Christmastime in the Enchanted Forest? So many mixed messages.
The frustrating thing is there’s so much potential for Halloween here. But Dallas Royce, whose front yard could fit a haunted corn maze that would be the stuff of legends, doesn’t like to be scared. And the entire town follows her lead. So what was her idea of a great Halloween last year? A dance. Sound good? It was called, “Let’s Boogie Man, Not Bogeyman.” And, while I’m sure a roller-disco can be terrifying, it’s not Halloween.
I understand if Dallas doesn’t like being scared – most overly sheltered individuals don’t – but let that be her problem. George hates chowder and you don’t see him trying to shut down its blessed festival. So take a lesson, lady, and let us have our Halloween, or I will do everything in my power to make sure you never have another chowder. Especially not Manhattan.