I wanted to write this post right at the beginning of the holiday season which I consider to be right before Halloween! But with two kids now I find that my free time has evaporated to approximately zero. The only time I have to myself is very early in the morning, around 5:00 am or when the wife and boys are at preschool/shopping. It just happens I have a moment now and am determined to get this post finished.
So I’ve turned on “This is Halloween” by The Vitamin String Quartet to try and transport my mind back a month or so.
I have always loved the holidays. I think the main reason is that my mom was and still is so enthusiastic and gets excited herself. She decorates the house to the brim and we would do fun things like watch the TV specials, make popcorn and all the other activities associated with holidays. Every holiday was a wonderful time and full of magic.
I can still remember the most magical moments. Let’s begin with Halloween since it is first in line. I was in 7th or 8th grade and it was one of the last times I would feel young enough to go trick-or-treating. I lived in a wonderful neighborhood called Golfview Woods that was like a labyrinth. There were only two ways in/out which were right next to each other. If you didn’t know where you were going getting lost was almost a certainty. In this neighborhood there were no businesses, just middle class housing right next to an 18 hole public golf course called Raymond Memorial and a smaller 9 hole golf course known as Wilson Road GC, hence the name Golfview.
There were only a smattering of schools for the neighborhood kids to attend, all of which required a commute/bus. With such a limited selection we all pretty much knew, or at least knew of, all the other kids. As there were a number of kids and the neighborhood was family friendly, most people would decorate their houses. It was rare to not make any effort at all.
These things made the neighborhood magical in itself, just a really great place to grow up before one got a driver’s license and had a wider world to explore.
Anyway, this particular night was warm, trick-or-treat was winding down with only the die-hard teenagers still soliciting for candy. I was with my friends on En-Joie Dr near Pamona Ct when looked up in the sky and saw a shooting star. It was at this moment where all the magic that is Halloween, comes together and through a simple spectacle of nature plants the memory of this night firmly in my brain. These are the golden nuggets of holidays past which being very rare are things one will never forget.
To add to this there was also a women in a house across the street who did not close her bedroom blinds and took off her shirt. For the first time in my life (not counting being a baby) I saw a real and quite voluptuous pair of boobs. I have to say they were almost as beautiful as the shooting star. Instead of enchanting me with the magic of Halloween night however, I was overcome with a feeling quite different from deep appreciation of the holidays.
I have seen quite a number of boobs since then and thus they don’t elicit the same type of excitement; first times are simply often the most spellbinding.
Time goes on and I’ve never experienced a Halloween moment as magical as that. I find that as we get older the magic almost disappears completely. I try to re-conjure it with all my might for my son and he gets mightily excited but for me adulthood has muted the experience which used to occur on its own.
I can still get a quick flash of the magic but it is quick and usually involves me alone, outside looking at the stars or out over the ocean or at a fireplace and in a sort of trance trying to bring back all my wonderful holiday memories as though I’m casting a spell which will bring back the wonder and joy of childhood into my adult existence. In order to do this I must consciously stop and make it happen at certain moments during the holidays. Today for instance I had just finished sweeping the leaves when I paused, appreciated the chill in temperature, picked up a dead leaf and said hello to Autumn.
I then glanced outside the gate to where I had put the pumpkins so we could see what happens when pumpkins decompose and was reminded that although time is supposedly an illusion, it leaves very convincing evidence by the fact that the pumpkins are now mush and I am 37 years old and no longer gets (as) excited by boobs!
Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust, the once feared Pumpkin King is no more.
It is at this point that I realize I can write no more. The wife has returned and I am forcefully returned from the enchantment of past Halloweens to current domestic duties. I must confirm that we have everything needed for the Thanksgiving feast tomorrow. Seems a reasonable enough request!
I hope to write something on Thanksgiving but stay tuned for my next post on Christmas. The most magical moment of my entire life happened on Christmas morning at about 4:00 AM when I was 6 years old, sitting on the heater vent staring at the shining and glorious Christmas tree.
