Halloween Hijinks

I apologize if the header image gives you nightmares, but the only photo I could find of myself was the one I submitted for our church directory.

Tomorrow is, of course, Halloween, unless I don’t finish this post in the next hour, and then today is, of course, Halloween, unless I don’t finish it tomorrow, in which case Halloween happened at some point in the past, as it often does.

Halloween is pretty much a non-event in our little gated neighborhood. I mention that it’s gated not because I want you to think that we’re fancy, but because the gates close at 7:00 p.m. This is important because out of the 45 or so homes in the neighborhood, there are only four children of acceptable trick-or-treat age, and they don’t do trick-or-treat.

Now, if we still lived in Midland, there would be van-loads of children coming into that neighborhood to gather goodies, but unless they climb over the fence like zombies from 28 Days Later ^[1], no outside children will make it to our doorstep after 7:00 p.m. Plus — and this is not a minor issue — there are also no children in the entire city of Horseshoe Bay and that would rule out before 7:00 p.m., although I could be mistaken about that as I occasionally see a school bus stop and regurgitate what appear to be small humans into neighborhoods other than ours.

Anyway, the upshot is that we don’t bother buying extra candy this time of year, only the minimum daily requirement that keeps us going. But I have noticed that we have four potatoes in the pantry, so we’re ready if the aforementioned neighbor kids decide to do trick-or-tater.

OK, let’s stop right now and talk about the legitimacy of giving out potatoes at Halloween. There’s an article in today’s Wall Street Journal that documents in detail this specific phenomenon. I’d link to it but it’s behind a paywall, so you’ll have to trust me. (Having said that, here’s a “gift article” link; I don’t know if I can actually open up the article to the world via a blog post, but feel free to give it a try.)

Apparently, there’s a subset of children in America who think getting a potato instead of candy at Halloween is a hoot, to the extent that at some homes, when potatoes are offered alongside candy, with a sign that says “take one or the other but not both,” the spuds disappear as quickly as the high-fructose corn syrup delivery mechanisms. Frankly, this gives me hope for the future of America, unless they’re taking the potatoes home to make vodka, and even that would indicate a commendable degree of imagination, although it could also be product of poor parenting, except that one of the most popular brands of vodka in the world is distilled from potatoes so never mind.

I’m all in favor of transitioning to a vegetable-based trick-or-treat tradition, and if I thought we’d actually have any K-Pop Demon Hunters appearing at our door, I’d offer asparagus, accompanied by a sign advertising the potential pee-smell-altering properties ^[2] provided by the chemical breakdown of asparagusic acid into volatile sulfur compounds (which are also the main cause of halitosis in dogs). There’s a 100% chance that this would appeal to junior-high-school-aged boys, and possibly accompanying adults who act like junior-high-school-aged boys.

I think this approach to trick-or-treating has some merit, and perhaps next year I’ll be carving little jack-o-lanterns out of brussels sprouts.

Fascinating Footnotes to add legitimacy to this post which it might otherwise lack

[1] To be honest, I can’t remember if the zombies in 28 Days Later could climb fences. They were fast on their feet, unlike in the original Night of the Living Dead or Shaun of the Dead, but I kinda don’t think they kept the climbing gene once they died and were reanimated. Now that I think about it, a better reference would be to World War Z. Those dead people were ninja-like. [Return]

[2] You know how some people think cilantro tastes like soap? That’s because they have a genetic makeup that makes them sensitive to compounds called aldehydes, which are also found in herbs such as dill and parsley. Welp, as it turns out, there are also some poor souls who (1) don’t produce the compounds that facilitate the phenomenon we’ll delicately refer to as asparagus pee (aka malodorous urine) or (b) have the genetic makeup that renders them unable to smell the specific compounds produced when asparagusic acid breaks down; there’s even a medical term for it: asparagus anosmia, and it has been the subject of at least one scientific study. The more you know, and all that. [Return]