There is too much going on in the world for me to simply select ONE thing about which I could rant for approximately 1,000 words, give or take—generally give. I simply cannot pick a topic or two because my mind has been inundated with all sorts of political male bovine excrement as of late. If you are wondering what is spilling out of my ears, I have answered your question.
Should I go on and on about the impeachment “investigation” or whatever it’s called? Need I broach the subject of how many things are put “out there” in order to distract us from REAL issues?
Should I say something about how EVERY branch of the government is highly corrupt and easily blackmailed? Should I give an ounce of attention to the election, which is still a YEAR and a MONTH away? Should I explain that voting is a total waste of time? Should I blather on incessantly about how once a person becomes a front runner, he/she has been bought and sold 100 times over?
(That last one was more or less a play on words spoken by Gore Vidal back in the day. He mentioned this about people who become the president though so I took some artistic license with that one.
Remember Gore Vidal? Those were the days my friends when we could watch him take on William F. Buckley on Buckley’s TV show. Actual cerebral conversations and fights would oft’ unfold when these two butted heads. OK, this is a huge digression and in brackets to boot so I shall return you to your regular gig at this time.)
After contemplating on which of the above-mentioned issues to focus, I finally decided to shine a light on a subject that is probably the most pressing issue of the day—or at least in this particular season. (I’m not speaking about the fall or autumn season either. I speak of none other than the Halloween season.)
I’ve been reflecting on this particular overly celebrated holiday for some time now and have concluded that things are just not the same as they were when I was partaking in the shenanigans associated with all things Halloween.
For instance, I don’t really recall there being set-in-stone hours for the ritual of banging on doors and demanding candy from neighbors, friends and strangers. I’m probably wrong as I’ve been accused of glorifying the past before. This could simply be a false memory to boost my thesis (is there one?) that the olden days were much more fun in terms of trick or treating and other festivities associated with the night.
It seemed like kids of many ages took part in roaming the streets in costumes. These days it just appears to be a bit limited in that just the smaller children partake. Like I said, I could be totally off base here. I do remember we went for as long as humanly possible in terms of our age.
I might have done the whole T or T thing up until I was maybe 24 or 25 if memory serves but no longer is this permitted. I’m kidding by the by. I think I may have been about 14 or so? Maybe? I cannot recall.
A big thrill for me was getting involved in some rather harmless pranks of the season. Draping a tree or part of a house with toilet paper was always so exciting. It really got the blood flowing. However, this was not really my favorite thing to do in terms of good clean pranks. I will be moving on to that next and then you shall see how my usage of “clean” has somewhat of a double meaning.
What ever happened to the most exciting hobby of soaping windows? I moved to Houston when I was 19 and returned at 29 and yes, this is relevant to the topic at hand. I used to ask people there if window soaping was a “thing” but I was generally met with stranger-than-usual looks.
Maybe this was a local tradition? I used to soap windows annually—and before you get the notion that I will be in big trouble with the woman next door, I assure you I will not. The reason why is because she not only approved of this activity but she TOOK us one year. (My father also recommended Ivory Soap in terms of the best kind for really covering a window and quickly.)
The only rule I had to follow was to never substitute wax for the soap. Cleaning soap off windows is one thing but scraping wax off is quite another.
I know, I know, you are probably appalled that Jackie Houserman would take part in such goings on but she did. The only reason she had to drive us around so we could partake in our sick soaping pleasure was because one year, I had a broken ankle. This prevented me from dashing away wildly from angry homeowners, while clutching my bar O soap.
I will never forget the sheer exhilaration involved in the whole soaping scenario. This was especially true if the family/couple/person happened to be home whilst the deed was unfolding. Better yet was if the family was gathered in the den watching TV and we could see them as we were covering a window. You know, if the windows were located just out of their peripheral visual range! I find myself becoming delighted with the memories. Just thinking of this is causing a mad tingling feeling to go up my leg, much in the manner of one of the talking heads on cable “news” after an Obama speech!
Getting back to Mother for a brief moment, she wouldn’t pull into driveways whilst a group of us crept up to the windows. She would drop us at Point A and then let us roam freely for a bit and then retrieve us from Point B. Get it?
She also dressed as a ghost once and came down the hallway during the ghost story telling portion of a seasonal slumber party. Mother is fun!! I’m just going to admit it freely, openly and honestly. My father had the “fun” reputation but Mother was/is also a hoot and she deserves some accolades here and now.
I think I’m finished for the week but before I go, I’d like to hear from you about your window soaping excursions from the olden days please. Just shoot me an email at the address listed above in my little box deal. I cannot be the only person who received such joy from a simple thing like soaping windows, can I? I also demand that this tradition be brought back and pronto.
THE END (Interstate Crosscheck, “War is a Racket,” by General Smedley Butler, Russia did NOT hack anything. There was NO hack, it was a leak. That last statement will be etched onto my tombstone and I’m having shirts printed.)