Halloween Anxiety

Another confession: I dread Halloween.

Nah, I'm not spooked by ghouls or anything. I'm haunted by all the nighmare-inducing decision-making regarding The Three C's: Costumes, Candy and Carving. Look, I have a lot to live up to:

The Costumes: My mother, who must be a descendent of Betsy Ross, used to make our costumes when we were kids. I went to our kindergarten Halloween party as Martha Washington in a blue satin ensemble Mom whipped up complete with gathered white cap, apron, and shawl. This may explain why I subsequently got the female lead in the kindergarten play, which I recall was about a princess who dressed a lot like Martha Washington.

In fourth grade Sister No. 2 and I dressed up as an Amish girl and boy. Guess who was the boy. It was the first time I ever wore pants to school and it felt great. This may explain why during high school when they finally legalized girls in pants I never looked back.

Lately, however, I have had to rely on my own imagination and skills for costumes. Fortunately the days are over when I had to assemble outfits for my kids, because I didn't inherit Mom's talent with thread even though they say I'm pretty good at needling.

So today I need to come up with a costume using stuff hanging around the house. I'm thinking of  borrowing a long dress and No. 1 Son's Jay From Silent Bob wig from last year (which is currently being used as a burglar alarm on our sofa along with strategically placed pillows, blankets, and realistic looking BB gun).  If I put the wig in a bun and add a shawl, maybe I can recycle this Martha Washington thing for tonight's party. Packing the BB gun would give the costume some added flair, right?

The Candy for Trick-or-Treaters: It just occurred to me we should buy one of those clicker-counter thingies so on Halloween night the Rocket Scientist could occupy himself collecting data on the number of trick-or-treaters. That would come in handy for next year since I never know how much candy to buy, meaning we either run out or have an extra five pounds. I also agonize about offering at least one thing that tots might enjoy eating instead of choking on. In an effort to pre-empt lawsuits, I finally settled on some Annie's organic bunny crackers in Halloween wrappers.

The Carving of Jack-O-Lanterns: It has been a tradition to carve some intricate skull or complicated, labor-intensive design on at least two pumpkins each Halloween. This year I found a small mutant-shaped pumpkin that's ideal for a skull at the farm stand up the road. I also bought a large round 18-pounder, which unfortunately rolled around in the back of the car and pulverized the packets of Annie's bunnies on the drive home.

As far as the carving goes let's just say I've set the bar impossibly high in past years with carvings of bats, witches, Frankenstein, headless horseman, etc. One year I carved a raccoon holding a jack-o-lantern. Jeez, what was I thinking? So this year Ima start with a small, simple skull the day before, and then see how I feel before committing to a satellite image of Hurricane Sandy superimposed over a geopolitical map of the East Coast on the 18-pounder.

Scary, right?



Fortunately the Rocket Scientist will be home to help distribute the candy, assuming Hurricane Sandy hasn't already done the job. He already has come up with his costume: Dressed in a white robe, a halo made out of a coat hanger, and pair of wings he found in the closet while looking for the coat hanger, he will be channeling Saint Gobain (http://www.saint-gobain.com). I plan to be at his side rockin' a long black dress, frizzed-out Jay From Silent Bob wig, black make-up, and the wizard's hat that I just tripped over in the hallway. A heaven-and-hell kind of vibe, right? Maybe these get-ups will scare the shit out of all the little trick-o-treaters thus precipitating a hasty retreat and rendering the pulverized crackers issue moot.


Now that I've worked out most of this year's holiday problems, I'm feeling much less anxious. I will wrap this up by wishing everyone a Wicked Happy Halloween. Be safe! For you parents who will be bringing baby trick-o-treaters to our doorstep, that means pack some extra baby wipes.













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What Do You Give a Rocket Scientist for His Birthday?

He wants the world, and I'd like to give it to him.

Last year he asked for a globe and I gave him something so forgettable I can't remember what it was.

Look, I like globes. I like orreries too. But here in our own private little solar system, the problem is space, and it's not infinite. It's all been conquered and the final frontier is full up. There is not a single cubic foot available to put a globe. Not even a moon. Not even an asteroid.

Ok, that's not exactly true. There is space to suspend a globe from the ceiling. I've been looking for a pulley system that would move the earth with some up and down action. Use the spider plant as a counter-balance and pretend it's a comet or an alien ship. Alas, my online search turned up no such globe-and-pulley product. (I did find a cool levitating Uranus for $299, but decided that might not send the right birthday message.)

Ideally we need a holographic globe. Again my searches yielded bupkis, but perhaps one will be available by the time this year's gift gets knocked over and broken after being repeatedly blasted with plastic BBs by six-foot-tall creatures with the minds of 12-year-old boys who like to reenact 'Star Wars.'

Alternatively, I'm thinking about getting him a set of new dishes. Seriously. I just bought a new Corning Corelle serving plate on clearance, and the Rocket Scientist thinks it's the coolest thing since the SpaceX Dragon launch.

Look, he really likes these dishes. Made in the USA, they are break- and chip-resistant plus are safe in the dishwasher, oven, and microwave. They are made with a patented process blah blah blah. They are square.

It occurred to me that having this new set of dishes may inspire the Rocket Scientist to cook, set the table, load, and unload the dishwasher more frequently instead of wasting time looking for the capital of Mauritania on a 12-inch-diameter sphere.
 
It's also true that the new Corelle ware will stack better and take up less space in the kitchen cabinet than our current crockery, but I doubt we gain enough room to fit a globe. Also, storing it in the kitchen sounds like a recipe for global warming ....

I truly can't bear to disappoint Rocket Scientist two years in a row. So I guess I should move some piles of junk out of the study to make room for a globe. At least it would give the space some atmosphere. Some of this junk hasn't been touched in eons, so I doubt anyone would miss a few piles that get sucked into the black hole known as the basement.

So I'm signing off to do more globe shopping. That has a nice sound to it even though it's not as much fun as globe-hopping, globe-trotting, and dishware shopping. At least it sounds better than black-hole sucking, and is easier to spell than 'orreries.'

Or maybe I should buy him the globe and the dishes. That way I can give him the world on a platter ....

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Trainblogging

Driving down to New Jersey and back is a pain compared to riding Amtrak's Northeast Regional line. Driving a car may be cheaper when you are traveling with companions, and flying might be faster, but train travel can be a pleasure compared to the highway and friendless skies. Here's why:


     *     You don't have to pay tolls or attention 

     *     Restrooms are only a few steps away and there's no one loitering at some remote Rest Area Men's Room entrance who creeps you out

     *     You arrive at your destination without getting lost

     *     You get to enjoy the self-righteous feeling of using mass transportation thereby reducing your carbon footprint blah blah blah

     *     Your underarm flab never sets off any sirens or alarms
         
     *     The conductors are friendly, helpful, and won't try to confiscate your smoked ribs like the flight attendants just because they skipped lunch and the ribs smell heavenly
    
     *     You don't have to cough up extra dough for an Exit row seat, meaning in the event of an emergency you haven't paid a premium to perform a job and assume responsibility for strangers while presumably being one of the last people off the plane.



I believe everyone should consider riding the rails when making their next travel plans. If it's been a while since your last train trip, here are some tips to make the experience even better:

     *     Don't touch anything at Penn Station!  If you do, have some hand sanitizer. If you buy hand sanitizer at Penn Station, disinfect it.

     *     If you have packed a snack of some old raisins you found in the back of your pantry, make sure you look in the box before popping a handful in your mouth and then noticing there is something squiggling inside it as you grab a second helping.

      *    It's also a good idea to clean out your pantry every once in a while.

     *     Not having a seatmate allows you to spread out more and enjoy a window seat view without having to say 'Excuse me' every time you think about those raisins and feel like you need to visit the bathroom to throw up. Here are tips to maximize your chances of snagging and retaining a row to yourself:

           *     Arrive on the platform before the train arrives, then try to telepathically signal the engineer to align a train door with where you are standing

           *     Refrain from bathing for two weeks previous to departure

           *     Eat something garlicky before boarding

            *     Head for the middle of the car, grab a vacant row seat, then start coughing, sneezing, and blowing your nose

            *    Nod your head a lot while muttering

            *    Have a melodramatic phone conversation in a loud, abrasive voice using words like 'Beeeeitch' a lot

            * Put a half-eaten box of old raisins from the back of your pantry on the aisle tray table.





A final message to the graffiti artists whose canvas is the concrete walls and supports frequently lining the tracks:  Make your letters really big, wide, and really far apart. Or else create a big 'flip book' effect so the thousands of people whizzing by at 50 miles per hour each day would see a movie.

That's all I can think of for now, except for some quick editorializing. Our public transportation system is pretty amazing. It's a valuable service that works. Evidently we like it, we use it, we underwrite it. I'm proud to be a supporter of this basic choice.


All Aboard!?!






Gotta go throw up ....








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