We all scream for Halloween The trick to attracting wee, treat-seeking ghosts and goblins on Halloween is to go all-in By: Jen Zoratti Posted: 7:00 PM CDT Wednesday, Oct. 31, 2018

When I was a kid in the 1990s, I lived for Halloween.

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Hey there, time traveller!
This article was published 30/10/2018 (2151 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

When I was a kid in the 1990s, I lived for Halloween.

My mom, a gifted seamstress, made all of my costumes. Deciding what I’d dress up as involved imagination and a trip to the fabric or craft store.

I loved flipping through the McCall’s patterns, and running my hands along the bolts of fabric that my mom would transform into Little Bo Peep, or Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz, or, one year, a Christmas tree — complete with the star on top. Old things were repurposed into new things.

Trick-or-treating, as a concept, is a bit morally fuzzy. (John Woods / Winnipeg Free Press files)

Trick-or-treating was my… I don’t know, some sort of sports reference. The goal? Amass as much candy as possible. We’d troll the neighbourhood for hours, dragging snow-sodden pillow cases full of it. We’d target specific streets, lured mostly by the promise of full-sized chocolate bars.

Then I’d go home, drink hot chocolate and sort all the loot I’d earned by walking up to houses and shouting.

What a holiday. My favourite part, though, was always the walk home, when the whole neighbourhood was quiet and still, and the crisp air smelled like blown-out jack-o’-lanterns.

Trick-or-treating, as a concept, is a bit morally fuzzy though, isn’t it? I learned, for example, that when you gleefully accept a Safeway bag full of leftover Halloween candy from a random lady while walking to elementary school in the cold morning light of Nov. 1, it’s no longer called “trick-or-treating.” It’s called “taking candy from a stranger.”

An activity that was OK — nay, encouraged! — a mere 12 hours prior is suddenly frowned upon, and I know this because I was quite literally frowned upon in a principal’s office. (”What’s the matter with you?” my mom asked, reasonably.)

As an adult, I love handing out candy. I love the adorable squishy babies in their animal costumes and I love the self-conscious tweens who feel like they’re maybe too old to be out (you’re fine). I love the audacious toddlers who barely understand how trick-or-treating works and just straight-up ask for more chocolate.

But it seems there are fewer and fewer every year. Last year, I was unloading fistfuls of candy on the few kids that turned up. Could it be that trick-or-treating is on the way out? Do kids just go to indoor events now?

So, I conducted a very unscientific and informal poll. The results were… inconclusive. The respondents live all over the city, and most of them have young kids. Everyone with kids (allegedly) still goes trick or treating. Everyone still (allegedly) gives out candy. But some people see hundreds of kids, some get one or two.

My cousin ended up just leaving a bowl of candy on her front step. It seems there are no “good” neighbourhoods or “bad” neighbourhoods; every neighbourhood has trick-or-treating deserts.

So maybe the question isn’t ‘Do you still go trick-or-treating?’ or even ‘Do you still hand out candy?’ Maybe the question is ‘How much skin do you have in this game?’

Listen, there’s no half-assery here. You’re either all the way into Halloween or you’re hiding in your basement. Kids are being driven around more these days, which allows them to be much more strategic. They hit up houses (and streets) that are obviously participating.

These days kids hit up houses (and streets) where people are obviously participating. (John Woods / Winnipeg Free Press files)

You want to bring the adorable squishy babies to your yard? You’re going to have to dial up the decor a little bit. I’m not saying you need to go full haunted house — but apparently carving three triangles and a mouth into a pumpkin and putting it on your front step doesn’t cut it in 2018, which is why I now own a three-foot inflatable pumpkin lawn ornament. It’s my beacon for trick-or-treaters.

Look to your left and look to your right: if your neighbours aren’t participating, it’s going to drag down your kid count. A friend of mine who lives in Edmonton sees between 400 and 600 kids, and it’s because Halloween is an all-hands-on-deck, neighbourhood-wide event.

That said, participating in Halloween doesn’t mean you have to spend a lot of money — although Canadians are increasingly spending more on Halloween, aided in no small part by the proliferation of enormous pop-up Halloween costume stores and costumes for dogs.

Polls from the past few years have shown that Halloween is outpaced only by Christmas in terms of spending. Big Halloween will peer-pressure you into becoming an inflatable-lawn-ornament person, but you don’t have to be.

Halloween, really, is just about enthusiasm. It’s about carving those pumpkins and tossing some spiderwebs into your hedges and opening your door to tiny superheroes and monsters.

And at a time when things feel fraught, and the current news cycle is particularly relentless, there’s something affirming about a holiday in which anyone can participate, and whose raison d’etre is fun.

jen.zoratti@freepress.mb.ca

Twitter: @JenZoratti