The Scariest Suburb

My family was great at Easter. We excelled at Thanksgiving. And Christmas - we owned Christmas, trumping everyone on our 95 percent Jewish block.

Halloween, on the other hand, was never our strong suit. I don't know why, but there was always a bit of a halfhearted approach. Sure, we went to the pumpkin farm, carved pumpkins, and went trick or treated, but in comparison to the rest of the neighborhood and the rest of my classmates, we weren't a die hard Halloween family.

 

The costume department was probably our ultimate weak spot. My Dad was a-okay going back and forth to the store ten times a year for more Christmas lights, but going to the store for Halloween? Nah - we had an attic full of hidden gems - boxes and boxes of random articles of clothing, accessories, and favors from black tie galas past that that we could turn into something more special than store bought.

My sister was actually pretty good at this game - She went upstairs, and poof became a scarecrow one year. A gypsy another year. And her biggest accomplishment, a Minnie Mouse the year after that.

I on the other was not so convinced by the magic of our boxes labeled, "Halloween." From our collection, I spent three Halloweens trick-or-treating as a Chinese person (whoever thought that was appropriate, I have no idea), many others dressed up as a fairy tap dancer by putting on one of my old dance costumes and adding a wand, and this youthful Halloween below as a kindergartner in her nightgown. Perhaps I was trying to be Wendy Darling. 

Around the age when I threw on my Mom's long velvet gown circa 1976 along with a crown, and someone dubbed me "Miss Cellaneous" on my candy mongering walk around Squirrel Hill, I decided to throw in the towel on Halloween. I was never going to be good at it.

When I moved to Naperville, the reality of my Halloween negligence really hit. The folks of Bigtown, USA, don't just put a costume and call it a day, they transform block after block into an all-out fright fest.

Basically, you've got all these people who have moved out to the burbs to be safe - away from the parts of town where the murder rates are just slightly lower than the high school graduation rates. But then on Halloween they stage scenes straight out of American Horror Story, True Blood or CSI. Over the past week, I have run by corpses hanging in trees, skeletons straight out of a biology lab, Jason and Freddy and Chucky (OH MY!), ghosts that look far more like the KKK than cute little Casper, blood, gore, guts, and the happiest of people making minor adjustments to their horrid front lawns.

Yesterday, Roscoe and I did a little stake out and took some photos.  

Scary right? Now imagine going for a little jog by this stuff before the sun goes up - frightening! And then imagine the attics where all this stuff is stored when Halloween is over. Heart attack producing 'AHHHs!!!' would be coming from me.

So, I'm out. I will never be as good at Halloween as all the rest of America. But look at this way kids, the money I've saved on costume purchases and lawn ornaments, I've invested in your candy. And that makes me the best house to trick or treat at in Naperville.

Lo.