How Catholic Is Halloween?
“This week should give the old fellows a lot to ramble on about,” she thought. “Reformation Sunday, All Saints and All Souls Days, Guy Fawkes Day.”
As always, the doting niece sat still, riveted by their pseudo~scholarly debate. The boys spent hours making profound observations about history, theology, philosophy, as self~professed paragons of erudition always do.
“There’s only one thing that has me going crazy with suspense, though,” she couldn’t help wondering. “Has either of them ever once really played chess?”
Rochelle, as always, brinks us yet another of her weekly Friday Fictioneers. Instructions can be found on her blog. This week’s photo has been provided by Jeff Arnold.
I should like to have been able to say that I don’t scare very easily but there are at least a few tricks that can really bother me. Anything involving heights, left turns, odd numbers or red hair is usually guaranteed to send all sorts of chills up and down my spine. Let’s not forget, either, about strangers and new experiences, liberalism and anyone who’s so much as the least bit inarticulate. I don’t usually bother with Halloween so much as an adult. I quite like telling people that I spend Halloween listening to the Zombies and the Grateful Dead, in the hope that at least someone will overlook the fact that they’re only a couple of 1960’s bands. Today and tonight, for some strange reason, absolutely no kids have come to the door trick-or-treating. When I was a kid, my Halloweens were often not as much scary as they were obnoxious, with neighborhood kids hitting me over the head with socks filled with eggs, and pulling other stupid pranks. Although I miss all the Halloweens of yore, this one has been quite nice, with such a whole lot of peace and quiet.
I have always thought that if I were ever to choose a Halloween costume that would be the definitive representation of the real me, although I am only one guy, it would absolutely have to be one that represented the entire gang from the Charles M. Schulz comic strip “Peanuts”. Like Charlie Brown, the little round-headed kid, I always seem to be prone toward misfortune. Each of us seems to have quite a flair for finding life’s booby traps the hard way. A main difference between him and me is that although he is perpetually smitten with the little red-haired girl I have always been terrified of her. The Linus in me tends to be exceptionally introspective, always taking a significantly intellectually inclined approach to things. I always hang onto whatever security blanket is conveniently available too. Everyone knows about my affinity with Schroeder. The main distinction between him and me is that while his main obsession is classical music, mainly Ludwig van Beethoven, I have always been equally insatiably consumed with the lives and times of the Beatles, and all the music, and circumstances in general, of the 1960’s. My sloppy disheveled side is represented by Pig Pen. To my chagrin I tend to be quite disorganized in certain ways.