I did not feel like spending three hours reading one million plus hits on Google about the origins of trick-or-treating, and so, you are not going to get some academic regurgitation on the history. Instead, you are going to get the Nelsonized version, which is much akin to the King James version of the Bible, but, of course, much less well-known.

Just so you know, I’m paraphrasing Wikipedia. Gads!

Trick-or-treating appears to have its origins in Irish culture. Of course, it wasn’t called that…the phrase “trick-or-treating” is purely American. Children, mostly, would dress up and beg food in exchange for prayers for the dead (All Souls’ Day on November 2). When the Irish immigrated to America in the 1700s, they brought the custom with them. “Trick or treating” was born in the 1930’s, and, in the 1960s, became the commercialized enterprise as we know it today.

This year I attempted to individualize it for my family…I dunno why, maybe to reclaim some meaning and purpose behind the holiday. I made my children’s Halloween costumes this year, and thoroughly enjoyed doing so. The two major venues to take trick or treating children was either the mall or the drugstore. We opted for only one of these places as it is usually overrun with hundreds of grouchy, tired-looking parents and children who have no idea what really is going on.

To me, one of these uptown dealies would operate as thus:

- All children old enough to walk and will do so by themselves are lined up, youngest to oldest. The smallest babies are carried by parents at the front.
- The conga line of costumes then snakes its way through a calm, quiet, seated crowd of parents, who then can snap photos at will.
- At the end, all parade participants are handed ONE paper bag, which is filled with goodies – including not only chocolate/candy, but pencils, play-doh, stickers, etc.
- Simple games are played in line to occupy waiting parade participants. (Simon Says, etc.)
- Once children have collected their goody bag, they find and sit with their parent until entire parade is complete.
- No participants over twelve.

It WOULD NOT operate as thus:

- Long lines of agitated parents, fighting bottlenecks every few minutes.
- Strollers overtaking major traffic areas.
- Groups crowding into lines and not respecting the idea of “merging”.
- Teenagers collecting candy.
- Children not even saying ‘thank you’ as they receive a treat
- The whole idea of the affair being just about the candy.

Alright, alright. Maybe I should just log my bitter and cynical self off this blog right now. LOL Seriously, though, I did feel as if I were an actor in Alfred Hitchcock’s ‘The Birds’ – when the voracious flock of blackbirds (aka parents) swooped down upon the villagers (aka businesses handing out candy), clawing and pecking and scratching everyone’s eyes out. Blood, entrails, fear splattered everywhere.

OK, it really didn’t look like that. But nearly…

I just…I don’t know. I’m getting old and crusty, I know that. However, tonight’s glut was greed at its finest. I got the feeling that nobody really knew why they were there. I bet if I had asked someone, they would have responded with “I dunno – something to do?” or “It’s tradition.”

Well, that’s just not good enough for me. First of all, I had a blast making my kids’ costumes, and I think they were very well done. However, when they were put up against Hannah Montanas and the Power Rangers, they faded into the background. That got me thinking, Why did I make these? Nobody is really “seeing” them. We weren’t given originality points; we were handed the same Willy Wonka-wrapped candy as everyone else. It was a futile exercise in creativity and originality, because in the end, nobody got the point and nobody cared anyways.

We've had clear weather all week long...and the one day I'd like it to be dry, it's raining!!!!!

Trick or treat is tonight! Those beautiful costumes I slaved over! No!

With children the ages of five to ten, one of the battles my husband and I inevitably fight is the one of table manners. When exactly is it when a child learns that they don’t need to shove an entire slice of bread in their mouth? Or that faces should be at least six inches from the plate? Or that there is absolutely no need to use the bathroom twice in the course of a twenty minute meal?

Boy howdy, table manners are what separates us from the primates!

However, despite all the rewards, lectures, reprimands, and privilege revocations, it is still a lesson my children are learning. What to do next?

Mom and Dad must collect empirical evidence.

Sunday nights are shaping up to be a ritual here at the Nelson ranch – dinner out at a restaurant. (Btw, Yuena, we were at Bonanza – where were you guys?? I sent out the psychic vibes and everything!) Husband expressed a desire to dine with children who were mildly afflicted with Stepford syndrome (my terminology, not his). He wanted well-behaved, quiet, polite children…which for the most part, they are in public restaurants. But tonight, conditions would be different.

On the way, we discussed the procedure. During the meal, we would eagle eye every single one of their movements (to the buffet, to the table, to the bathroom, at the table, while eating, while the waitress was there, etc). If we perceived a negative behavior, we’d mark it down in a little notebook I’d brought just for this experiment. Any positive behaviors would also be indicated.

The child(ren) who had significantly more positives than negatives would win an extra fifteen minutes of bedtime. Now, that was some serious motivation (at least for the two eldest).

Husband and I were picky...with a capital P. Now, I’m not saying my children were perfect, but damn, they were thanking everyone they could, complimenting everyone they could, offering to help anyone they could, etc. The only exception to this was Elliot…once the novelty of the “game” wore off, he committed infractions such as using two spoons to eat his ice cream, laying on the bench, and not eating all of his carrots.

In the car ride home, we recounted our notes; Kirby and Spencer beamed with pride. Elliot got a bit sad when he learned he’d had more negatives – he told us, “I’m a bad boy.” Uh, no. However, he and his self-esteem seemed to be fine as he wielded his mighty lightsaber around the house later that night.

The next step now is to do this very same thing during a home dinner. Cue doom music.

So, my husband and oldest son are watching ‘World Series of Poker’ on ESPN. I must say, I do not get it. What is appealing about watching other guys play cards? When I first learned these people enter major tournaments for huge dollar amounts, I realized I AM MOST definitely in the wrong profession. I mean, hell, what’s an educator to a professional poker player? But I ask you, dear Streamers, what service exactly do poker players provide to society?

Well, dammit all to hell. I had this whole thing typed up and ready to go, and it went amiss due to technical difficulties.

For any background information, cross reference the post from August 30, 2009.

Our valiant adventurers had just overtaken a guarded caravan, due to an excellently planned and executed diversion plan. With Pyre the Ranger driving the now-vacated wagon, Ellora the Sorceress and Bavmorda the Rogue following on horseback, and Brunhilda the half-orc inside, the party set off for Mount Dew in the quest to rescue Fern.

As the surrounding terrain grew more wild and rocky, the party noted larger-than-life spider webs adorning the wilderness. It is at this time the Ranger amazes the entire group with this astounding precept: Large spider webs usually means large spiders. The rogue ridicules Pyre for his “four years of elf school”. That observation is especially ironic in several minutes when Pyre is bitten by a rapidly descending arachnid. Brunhilda does maximum cleaving damage and Ellora finishes it with her crossbow. Ellora then uncovers a longbow and studded leather suit among the spider corpse.

Continuing on to Mount Dew, the party is accosted by Air Eagle (whatsherface’s mate), who offers rides directly to the gate. Ellora eagerly takes AE up on his offer, but Pyre decides to study the bridge’s possibilities for several moments. Per Murphy’s Law, the moment Pyre and Brunhilda begin to cross the bridge, they are attacked by trolls. A brief battle ensues, along with eagle swooping, hacking, and arrow puncturing. Shortly afterwards, Pyre and Brunhilda join the others. Air Eagle informs the group he is vehemently against Teaville…a factoid that might be useful later…

The doors of Mount Dew are strong and sturdy, and Brunhilda looks to flex her muscles as she attempts to beat down the door. However, that fails…but alas, the handle works! Brunhilda compensates by totally punching down the now-slightly ajar door. Within the dark space, a noise is heard, and Brunhilda takes off at a dead sprint to…MINOTAUR! The barbarian rages, and soon the hallways carry the smell of singed Minotaur flesh. However, the barbarian’s raging state does not end for several minutes, and so the entire party is witness to a thorough annihilation of a random storeroom boxes and crates by Brunhilda. Searching debris renders some Cure Moderate Wounds potions and a “Lint Ball in a Bag”, found by the Rogue.

The party ascends a ladder at this time, and in the middle of the new room is a table, on which a random map is placed. How fortuitous our adventurers are! This map details an impending takeover route of Kokoa and other neighboring cities. What such an important map is doing in such a conspicuous place is puzzling indeed. The company continues up another ladder and is met by a group of soldiers, all of whom are dispatched quickly. Ellora manages to cast Hold Person on one, and begins tying him up…for questioning purposes.

Pyre soon brings over his sharpened blade point to hover at “Todd’s” throat. Ellora reminds Pyre that the HP spell wears off soon, and so his torture strategies will need to be quickly executed. Todd informs them that yes, there is an invasion planned, and yes, a force of roughly 20-30 soldiers is en route to Mount Dew. This is not new news to the group – remember the map from earlier? Todd informs Pyre that more useful information could be obtained from his boss…but alas, that guy is discovered to be dead from the fray earlier. Bavmorda and Ellora exit the room through another ladder.

Bav and Ellora overhear more men talking the room above. Ellora then casts Disguise Self, and adopts the disguise of Stoned Canadian Warrior. Her plan is to gather any new information about the takeover. Her plan is thwarted, however, by Pyre, who has grown tired of the slow conversation and takes matters into her own hands. He shouts, “Hey Bill, the shipment’s here.” Nine unarmed guards scurry down the ladder only to be met by Pyre, Brunhilda, and Bavmorda and their weapons of death. Ellora is a bit disgruntled and casts Daze on Pyre. She impels him to not interfere with her plans again.

After he snaps out of it, the company enters into a Dire Wolverine (insert X-Men claw-appearing sound). Brunhilda and Pyre battle it, Bavmorda fumbles, and Ellora spectates. Another ladder leads to another occupied room, which leads to another onslaught, which leads to another nine dead bodies. Here, Pyre locates a blue key and gold pieces. The group decision here is to move back to the Wolverine Room and rest. The discussion at this time is the awkwardness of the slew of corpses the party has left in its wake. Brunhilda’s clean up plan involves throwing all cadavers out the nearest window. The party lets her have at it.

And thus ends the night.