As I navigate my seventh decade on this planet, I’ve reluctantly come to accept most things must change with Time. Generally speaking, that change is for the good: advances in medical science for example; touch-screen access to all the information in the world and of course you can now have pizza delivered to your front door.
There is one change however, I just cannot accept.
Halloween!
With due deference to our readers from USA, I’m not a fan of the Halloween we limeys seem to have adopted from your fair land.
“Trick or Treat?”
Is that it?
Oh no – I forgot the bit where you suddenly and most unexpectedly give my house the appearance of a runny omelette.
You see, this whole premise of ‘Trick or Treat’ is grossly misleading to an ageing traditionalist. I was first presented with this dilemma a few years back. I took a few moments to consider the options carefully and replied ‘Trick.’ I presumed the young whippersnapper before me, rather amateurishly dressed as Super Mario, would produce a magic wand, mumble some words of a memorised spell and produce a line of knotted handkerchiefs from sleeves of his red pullover.
Well – that was a lesson well learned, I can tell you!
The upshot is I now don’t entertain the wee scamps at all. Come the night itself, my house is enveloped in darkness from 6pm, and an intricate series of hidden trip wires and bear pits do the ‘trick.’
Of course, I’ve not always been a grumpy old git. As a nipper I looked forward to Halloween immensely.
The build-up began in earnest when the local village shops took stock of the traditional masks. This would be mid-October at earliest and not the week after Easter, by the way.
In the early to mid-Sixties, the masks I had, were made of cardboard imbued with the same dusty aroma as egg cartons. Traditionally, they depicted mildly spooky or mystical presences like the faces of ghosts or gypsy women, for example. Nothing sinister. But with an old bed sheet or grannie’s colourful woollen shawl draped over your shoulders, you really did feel you could walk through walls or cast a hex. Until you tried.
Another lesson well learned.
In the latter half of the decade, there was a move to plastic shell masks. By now, Superhero guises were all the rage. Batman was my favourite (still is) and I vividly remember not so much the smell of these guises, but the slightly rough texture to the matt blue colouring of the head and eye section.
(Oh – just me, then?)
The Halloween parties hosted by local Cub Scouts / Brownie packs were eagerly awaited. The normal routine of knot tying / dancing badge work was put aside. Instead, for Cubs at least, games such as ‘dookin’ for apples’ or ‘treacle bun eating’ offered different challenges. With sharp, metallic forks held in our mouths, we’d attempt to spear apples bobbing in a basin of water, before partially stripping off to take bites from a dangling bun covered in gooey, dripping treacle.
Hmmnn! Akela may have some explaining to do these days.
‘Guising’ on the evening of 31st October was the highlight. With friends, also in full disguise, we’d walk excitedly from house to house along the street. In one hand we’d swing a candle-wax-dripping, hand-carved turnip lantern (yes – turnip) and in the other, our mum’s shopping bag. We’d hope the latter would be filled with masses of delicious, treats by the evening’s end.
We had to be good, though. The neighbours were brutal judges, and kids would be rewarded in accordance with their standard of performance. Whether it be a poem, song, jokes or a magic trick, our ‘piece’ required days, possibly even weeks of fastidious rehearsal.
So here’s my message to kids today: if apples, monkey nuts, Parma Violets and assorted toffees are to bulge your trendy little tote bag (nobody would be seen dead, even at Halloween, with their mum’s shopping bag nowadays) then you must learn that THE TRICK IS IN TREATING your neighbours.
Not bloody terrorizing them.
HAPPY HALLOWEEN!
****
(Post by Colin ‘Jackie’ Jackson of Glasgow – October 2023)
(What was your first, or favourite, Halloween outfit? Do you remember any of your guising ‘performances? Let us know in the Comments section below.)
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onceuponatimeinthe70s.com 
Unfortunately, back in the early 70’s as kids we thought Halloween was on the 21st October. We got some very strange looks as we ‘terrorised’ the street with our carved swedes before it was even dark. Happy Days.
Dave
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😀 😀 😀
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Looks like once upon a time you had fun. Question: do you clear the bear pits regularly or just wait till morning?
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🤣🤣🤣
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Halloween was fun until I turned 15 or 16…then we threw water balloons (never eggs) and almost got killed by 20 something year olds that we somehow managed to hit.
Those seventies masks were hot to wear…but they are creepy looking.
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I’ll join you in the Grumpy Ol’ Git club. Not a day I much care for. Perhaps that’s from my upbringing – my brother used to get to go out and trick or treat until he was 10 or 11, but I was never allowed. My mom worried I’d get sick, it was often cold and/or rainy up in Canada on Oct. 31, plus I was allerigc to a good chunk of the candies being dolled out anyway. When I was 4 or 5, I was a bit jealous of my older brother (who’d soon be told he was too old to go out anymore). Occasionally, if it was a warmish night, I’d be allowed to give out some candies at the door so I could see the other kids’ costumes. Besides all of which, my Dad didn’t go in for it and my Mom – surprisingly , usually a liberal on social agenda items – thought it was all wrong and was merely teaching kids that begging was good and setting them up to go on Welfare as soon as they finished school. So it wasn’t a household that did much or paid much attention to the day really, though the folks would, as I said, spring for some candies to give out.
Now, I find it kind of fun when LITTLE kids come around dressed up, but I have no time for the fullgrown 18 year olds, even if they do put on a costume (and some can’t even be bothered) when they ring the doorbell and even less for workplaces that try to enforce fun and have the employees dress up. I usually tried to book the day off when I worked in places that encouraged it.
BAh, Enough of that. I have to go out the quarry and find some nice rocks to hand out…
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Experience growing has a huge effect on holidays. I think by 11 or twelve should be the end of your door to door experience
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I’m right with you on the workplace ‘let’s show the world how whacky and zany we are’ days. Detest them!
Interesting too what you say about your Mum’s attitude regards it being ‘begging.’ A friend said the exact same thing about her Mum on our FB Group this morning.
Rocks. Now there’s an idea … 🤣
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I picked up a few things at the supermarket yesterday afternoon, and went through the self-serve (which is close to the only option if you have a few items or else you’re going to wait in line for a long time!) and the guy who was watching over that section had a leather jacket and shades on, but with his ID tag, and I thought ‘how weird…maybe he just came in from bringing in the carts from the parking lot, but still…’… only as I walked out and saw some girl dressed up as Little Red Riding Hood on a checkout did I kind of go ‘Oh! he was probably dressed up for Halloween!’. As a guy in a leather jacket and sunglasses, I suppose.
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The Fonz? (Pretty amateur effort, whatever, I’d say.) 🙂
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Dressed in my Dad’s oversized shirt, a beanie and holding a candle I would sing ‘Wee Willie Winkie’. Another highlight was the paisley pattern shirt, my Mum’s beads and an old pair of round wire framed glasses singing all the verses of ‘Penny Lane’. Even then I had to explain that I was John Lennon. God I suffered for my art !
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😀 😀 😀
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