where the crypt doors creak and the tombstones quake

Happy Halloween, dudes.
I'm stuck in a city that doesn't seem to appreciate it.

Then, maybe for me, Halloween will always be the old house on Surrey with the gang. Susan, Kris and I going all the way from Bridgetown Road to Lawrence, or trying to. Stopping down at LaRosas and the pony keg to see if they had any treats. Stopping at the Dairy Farmers for a free ice cream.

That guy on Childs who used to wear this white thing, and just chase people out of his yard without so much as a pencil. The people Angie and Brian knew, but I didn't, who passed out carmel corn homemade things, and I threw mine away because I was sure there was something nasty hidden in it.

Marcie and Marie, with thier bags of candy and dollars for all of us, even Susan and Kris, who they saw maybe once every Halloween.

The people who used to decorate their whole house for halloween. One time the woman there read my palm. She made all these noises about how wierd it was. At the time I was all embarrased. Why couldn't she have just said, "You're very creative and should be a writer".

Those people on Karen. One of them worked for Kahns. Every year, and I mean EVERY YEAR without fail, even after I was grown up and moved away. Every year they brought out this big ass grill and grilled hot dogs for the whole neighborhood. Free. For Halloween. With Coffee for the parents, too.

Good god, I miss that. One of my favorite memories- walking around on Halloween night. Susan and Kris and I got back first, no matter what. Hours later Kraig and Steve would come back with huge pillowcases full of stuff, and we never figured out how they managed to get so much candy.

I've always liked walking at night. You don't have to tell me it's not safe anymore, I know. There's something so magickal about Halloween at night though. I just love it.

It's not the same here, though. Almost like it's not really Halloween at all, if we're not at my old house, in the old neighborhood, with the old friends.

Things change, and some memories you can never get back. But I'll never forget the first time I saw Nightmare on Elm Street. It was another Halloween night. After we got back to the house and us kids were in the den, watching horror movies on TV. The moms and Grandmas were in the living room, talking. Know the scene where she's on the phone, with the tounge? Susan screemed bloody murder to wake the dead. I think my grandma almost had a heart attack at that. After that we were told to turn the TV off. I still love horror movies though. Shocking, I know.

I was a witch more times than I can remember. Cinderella. A cowgirl. A gypsy. And yes, I was even Smurfette. My mother has all the blackmail pictures, so don't look at me.

My favorite of course was Wonder Woman. I had my own WW bracelets. The costume was plastic and came in one of those boxes. Those plastic costumes in the box were the fucking SHIT. And another thing about being WW? It was ass freezing cold that year, kids. And mom made me wear my winter coat.

Wonder Woman doesn't do the whole Coat thing, though. So 'Wonder Woman' was allowed to wear her coat UNDER the costume. The plastic costume with flesh toned legs and arms, since all WW wears is a bathing suit. And if that's not screwy, I dunno what is.

I spend a lot of time dwelling on nostalgia, and memories, and moments in time that are lost forever, that I'll never get back. Every so often, it makes me a little sad. When I'm gone, who will remember those hot dogs on Karen, or the feeling of Halloween night back when it was actually held on Halloween, when people actually all passed out candy?

I'm all dressed up with nowhere to go
Walkin' with a dead man over my shoulder

Waiting for an invitation to arrive
Goin' to a party where no one's still alive

I was struck by lighting
Walkin' down the street
I was hit by something last night in my sleep
It's a dead man's party
Who could ask for more
Everybody's comin', leave your body at the door
Leave your body and soul at the door . . .
(don't run away it's only me)


All dressed up with nowhere to go
Walkin' with a dead man
Waitin' for an invitation to arrive
With a dead man . . . dead man . . .

Got my best suit and my tie
Shiny silver dollar on either eye
I hear the chauffeur comin' to the door
Says there's room for maybe just one more . . .


Don't run away it's only me
Don't be afraid of what you can't see
Don't run away it's only me . .