Good morning, all! I'm running late and I have to get down to Toyland to use the piano for a bit before I hit the NYPL at Lincoln Center.
I had to stop for a second to respond to another rude Facebook comment from out DR singdaw, but such ate the trial and tribulations o being an artiste.
Most of my early childhood Halloweens I remember quite fondly up o about the age of 12 when the Hawkins family, whose children were the neighborhood partners-in-crime of my brother Tom and me, moved away. I remember my mother and my Aunt Jenny making popcorn balls for my mother's favoritetrick-or-treaters, the crazy dad down the street who ran around in a sheet terrifying all the kids who rang his doorbell, the literal parade of kids in costumes since our subdivision was built around 1950 and the baby-boomer quotient of young families was quite high, going into the local department stores to look over the plethora of Haloween costumes and candy. After the Hawkins boys moved away, we stopped getting into so much trouble in the neighborhood - I can't put all of the blame on them; Tom and I were quite trouble-prone without them - and it was time to outgrow the Halloween madness. My brother Randy was about a year old then, and from the time he was two or three to age seven, when I went off to college, I mostly walked him around while he played trick-or-treat.
