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Let the bacchanalia of candy begin!
My trick-or-treating career began when I was two years old and ended when I was 17. Friends of mine had younger siblings that we would chaperon around the neighborhood. I still yearn to wander the night in search of mini Snicker bars.
It was the sorting afterwards that I enjoyed, discovering the treasures of my plastic pumpkin. There were always two piles. The good stuff and the mysterious stuff. It wasn’t that the mysterious stuff had evil in it like razor blades.
The mysterious stuff was candy I’d never seen and was hesitant to eat. Like the Idaho Spud. To a 9 year old, it looked like a turd. I’m sure it was a delicious turd, but I wasn’t brave enough to taste it.
There was never a bad pile. The stuff I didn’t like I gave to my sister or my dad. That’s one good thing about having siblings. Halloween candy suddenly becomes commerce. “If you clean my room, I’ll give you an Almond Joy.”
>My parents went through my piles of candy when I lived in Culver City… looking for razor blades I suppose. There was an old grandma lady who used to give us actual money.. dimes, nickels, and actual quarters, along with guavas from the tree in her front yard. I liked the guavas best. My brother liked the money.
>Remember the jerks that gave out popcorn in baggies? Lame.
>I always liked the people that would hand out silver dollars.
>I had an asian couple give me a cheese puff and a popcorn kernel wrapped in aluminum foil.
I went back and pooped on their porch.
>Pablo, are you sure they weren’t Coneheads handing out fried chicken embryos?
>bacchanalia. nice word. had to go look that one up and realized i’ve participated in some.
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