Basura: Halloween memories keep flooding back

As college students, my then girlfriend and her roomies hosted what they called a Hairy Buffalo party. Everyone was to dress in costume, and bring some sort of alcoholic beverage.

A new trash can was purchased for the purpose of holding the “punch” and everyone poured their contribution of beer or wine or hard stuff into the can. Some sliced fruit was added to make a thematic suggestion of sangria. The peculiar blend had the effect of intoxication.

Mary Ellen, now my wife of 45 years, came to the event as Carmen Miranda. She wore a headdress of fruit (unsliced), a midriff baring top and a floral skirt, and cha cha ed and mamboed around the party. Our friends Jock and Nancy came as a pregnant bride and her mother. Jock wore a wedding dress with a pillow in the abdomen, and Nancy wore old lady clothes, as befitting our idea of a woman in middle age, and an expression of long-suffering.

The next morning there seemed to be a lot of fruit among the debris from the night before.

Some years later a friend bought a house in a not-very-desirable-neighborhood in Grand Rapids. He didn’t really buy the house – he purchased the salvage rights for $65. The house was scheduled for demolition the first week of November. There was a mantle at the fireplace that Phil wanted. A Halloween party was scheduled, and we were all invited to decorate the house the afternoon of 10/31. A great deal of spray paint was deployed.

The power was off, so the illumination came from candles, mostly in the form of Jack O’ Lanterns. Some of the carved pumpkins seemed to have been done knowing well that there would be no children at the event. The warm glow was very festive.

Not much later the parties changed. Kids had arrived in our lives, and the parties took a decidedly family friendly turn. As they got a little older, there was a shift away from the party and to trick-or-treating. I’d take our son out, and Mary Ellen would pass out the candy to the youngsters that came to our door.

Our neighbor across the street always had a special chocolate bar for Brian. And for me, a martini in what she called a traveler, but was actually an acrylic beer glass. Kay was a great lady. She liked her martinis. And she thought you should, too.

Not too many years ago, a guy from the office hosted a costume Halloween party. It was nicely attended and not too crazy. At the close of the night, some mention was made of going to Mangiamos for sort of an after-party.

I was dressed as the Egyptian author Naguib Mafouz; I wore a conventional business suit, with a headdress befitting a man from the Middle East. Mary Ellen came dressed in a burka and veil. She walked behind me, and kept her eyes downcast. She also remained mostly silent – a great theatrical performance for my talented, but usually free spoken wife.

We were shown to a table in the grapevine bar, where we ordered a couple of drinks. It wasn’t until about 20 minutes later, when Braveheart showed up with an Indian princess that it seemed to dawn on the other people that it was Halloween, and that we were in costume.

Now we take great pleasure in seeing all the neighborhood kids come to our porch, adding to their bag of candy. If a kid comes to the door for candy, they go away with some, even though sometimes we see kids that seem at the upper range of the target age group, and the costumes of those big kids are often sort of lame. It’s a great holiday; kids get to be a superhero or a princess or a professional ballplayer for a few hours. And get rewarded with a “fun sized” Snickers bar.

I might drink a beer tonight, and I wouldn’t be surprised to see a glass of Sauvignon Blanc in Mary Ellen’s hand. But our Jack O’ Lantern will be Rated G for all audiences, and we won’t wake tomorrow with wet fruit on the walls.