Halloween Memories (1950s)

Halloween isn't what it used to be.

I'm old enough to remember when Halloween was a kids' event, not a major holiday requiring elaborate—and often tacky—decorations displayed weeks in advance. Usually, the only decoration back in the late 40s and early 50s was a carved pumpkin on the doorstep. It was lit the night of Halloween, not days before. There were no scarcrows on the porch, no cornshucks, no strings of orange Halloween lights on the shrubbery—who would have imagined such back then?—and no gravestones or skeletons in the front yard. Decorations didn't convey a sense of horror.

 Our parents remembered WWII and Korea, so they they'd had enough horror to last them for the rest of their lives. Gravestones—even simulated ones—in the yard—would have been disrespectful to those who had died. Folks remembered the Great Depression, so they certainly didn't approve of spending money on decorations or elaborate costumes.  

Our costumes were assembled from what we had at home—a lot of us were hobos—with maybe the addition of a 25-cent mask. Other popular costumes were witches, ghosts, and maybe a ballerina or two if girls were taking ballet lessons and wanted to get a bit of extra mileage out of the outfit. Since some of us already had cowboy or cowgirl outfits, those would do for  costumes, too. Often we carried noisemakers so folks could hear us coming.  I still have my tambourine, although it's showing its age a bit and doesn't jingle as loud as it used to:

A few days before Halloween, we drew and colored witches or black cats or pumpkins at school. Our teacher might have read us a spooky story, and we might have had a modest party right before dismissal,  but we didn't wear costumes to school. 

Trick-or-treating began as soon as it was dark—never earlier. We walked a few blocks in our neighborhood and were home within an hour or so. I don't remember parents ever going with their kids—though some might have watched from their porch. Mamas stayed home to hand out treats and to watch any younger kids, who peeked around their mamas' aprons and tried to make sense of all the strange creatures who hollered "Trick or Treat!"  Why did they look so strange? we wondered. Would they hurt me?

Halloween was a coming-of-age event. Trick-or-treating proved we were old enough to be out in the dark and old enough to find our way around. We started trick-or-treating when we were old enough to walk a couple of blocks, usually when we were about five or six and had mastered walking to a playmate's house or maybe to school. Before then, we stayed home. At least one older kid was usually with the beginners, and we stopped trick-or-treating when we were in the 8th grade—because trick-or-treating was for children. 

Many of the treats we got were homemade—cookies, Rice-Krispies bars, caramel popcorn balls, etc. A lot of ladies apparently fixed their specialties. Sometimes we got apples, candy corn, some individually wrapped pieces of store-bought candy, and sometimes even candy bars. 

Simpler times. . . .

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Happy Rodent-based Holiday

Happy Groundhog Day, a holiday that is mostly undiscovered by both the greeting card industry and home decorating industry. There are no groundhog carols, no feasts, no pageantry, no parades, no inflatable lawn ornaments, no Martha Stewart groundhog centerpieces—not much of anything, even though it is America’s only rodent-based holiday.

The groundhog either sees his shadow or not, an event that is over in a matter of minutes. (Note: originally in Europe the badger was the rodent of choice; early German settlers in America found few badgers, but they found an abundance of groundhogs.)

Hence for this under-rated holiday, I offer this poem that I wrote years ago for a Virginia Poetry Society contest. (The poem neither won nor placed.) I hate to waste it, so here goes:

The Groundhog
by Becky Mushko

The groundhog, I’m fairly certain,
Lives behind no silken curtain,
Lounges on no chaise or chair,
Wears no garments but his hair.

The groundhog, I do believe,
Keeps no secrets up his sleeve
Since he doesn’t wear a shirt.
He spends his days in digging dirt.

The lowly groundhog, I have found,
Makes his home beneath the ground,
Shuns townhouse and doublewide,
And makes do with his hole’s inside.

This large rodent, I have learned,
Has—of necessity—luxury spurned.
Both his needs and wants are few.
He only does what he needs to do.

But every winter, he has a day when
He ventures forth from his cozy den
As his fans eagerly watch and wait
To see what he’ll prognosticate.

When the sun is out in force,
The groundhog’s shadow appears, of course;
If he sees it, we can be sure
Six weeks of winter we’ll endure.

If clouds prevail and sun can’t shine,
No shadow means weather will be fine.
The groundhog really doesn’t care;
He just returns to his cozy lair

Underground, so snug and deep,
That sheltered him for his winter sleep.
About his forecast, he doesn’t worry
As humans do each February.

If you prefer, you can celebrate today as Candlemas. According to an old saying:

If Candlemas day be fair and bright,
Winter will have another flight.
But if Candlemas day bring clouds and rain,
Winter is gone and won't come again.

Another holiday that happens around this time is the Celtic Imbolc, which comes halfway between the winter solstice and the equinox.

So, Happy Groundhog Day, Merry Candlemas, and a Joyful Imbolc to all! If you think of a good way to celebrate, let me know.

This morning is sunny and the temperature is in the 40s. Looks like winter will stay awhile.

P.S. Yesterday Maggie and Hubert investigated a few groundhog holes. The groundhogs didn’t come out. I don’t think Maggie would have given the groundhog time to see its shadow if one had come out.

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You Better Watch Out!

Santa Claus is coming tonight. I have my suspicions about this guy. I don’t think it’s a good idea to let him in. Here’s why:

• He’s a male chauvinist. Mrs. Claus is stuck at home doing the household chores while he gallivants all over. He never takes her out. She apparently has never had her own career. What’s with that?
• He exploits his workers. Those elves have to work around the clock in his sweatshop. Do they even get paid? What benefits do they get? Have you ever heard of a 401K for elves? I didn’t think so?
• He encourages bullying. Take the case of Rudolph, for example. The other reindeer made fun of poor Rudy’s physical defect and Santa did nothing about it.
• He’s an opportunist who thinks nothing of exploiting others for personal gain—Rudolph, for example. And the elves.
• He’s manipulative (the naughty and nice list) and he doesn't want you to express your emotions ("You better not cry, you better not pout"). Could his jolly demeanor actually conceal a passive-aggressive personality?

Yeah, Santa looks harmless enough and he brings all that stuff. But when he comes down your chimney, how do you know he isn’t just casing the joint? Are those gloves part of his outfit, or is the real reason for wearing them so he won't leave fingerprints?

But, if you're the sort who welcomes strangers into your house—while you're sleeping, no less!—then go for it. If he leaves you some good stuff, you might just profit from his visit.

But, still, you better watch out!

Merry Christmas!

Free Santa clipart from the Toonworkshop.
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