As I write this the day before Halloween, I think back generations of Trick or Treating.
The best of Halloween for me was in Llano, where my dad owned the paper.
I think fondly of that time in the 50s when kids could roam a several-block area with other kids.
I was in my increasingly thread-bare skeleton costume, but being with other kids and asking for candy without imminent parental oversight was a joy.
At least for most of us, it was a fear-free time.
Granted Llano was and is a small town, but things change and by the time I was a teenager, Halloween was a time to ride around.
By the time my sons were old enough for Halloween, things had changed and so had society.
I wouldn’t remotely consider allowing my elementary-age sons to go without my escort through Kerrville where we lived in the 1980s.
Actually, that seemed to work because the kids still got to see their friends whose parents were often my friends from high school days.
That was a terrible time for Halloween with the fear of dangerous items like razor blades inserted in store-bought candy and even in apples.
The candy had to be inspected - I suppose it still does - when we got home.
None of my sons’ goodies were ever contaminated, but that didn’t stop the outcry that something innocent had been taken.
Still, Halloween is alive and well nowadays.
There are long lines for Halloween events - Bay City Library’s Trunk or Treat Saturday and Schulman’s MBG Monday evening come to mind.
I’m sure there were countless other events where children’s joy is front and center.
Jessica keeps the tradition going here at home because she loves Halloween and all of its spooky fun.
Her affection is contagious, although if I have to see the 1993 movie Hocus Pocus again - I saw parts of it last night - I’m going to demand mandatory presence for A&M football games on TV.
Wait, maybe I don’t want to see some of those myself this season.
Another seasonal happening - notice I didn’t say celebration - is the time change this Sunday, Nov. 5.
Of course, we get another hour off for the weekend.
That means we aren’t totally whacked out about the change like we are in spring when we lose an hour.
I always hate that, recalling jobs I’ve had where that lost hour projected me closer to Monday morning.
I still resent the change, and I’m sure I am not alone.
But, just like Hocus Pocus, some irritating things don’t change.
