For years and years I had an October tradition: I would read Ray Bradbury's Something Wicked This Way Comes to get in the spirit of Halloween. It's not really a story about the holiday, so much as it is a song of October. It captures the fel of the autumn leaves under your feet and the eerie lengthening of night. But after a 10 or so years, I could recite it page by page and I had to take a few years off. I guess you could say that longing for more books about the October transformation of the world prompted me to write my own book about it.
Of course it's not just about the reading. The adoption of a frightening personality and the subsequent acquisition of confections was a big part of it, too.
When we were kids, Trick-or-Treating was something to think about all year long. As soon as our doors closed shut for the night and my brother and I tore off our sweaty rubber masks, we would start talking about what we were going to be next year. In college, my roommate and I turned pumpkin carving into an elaborate (and expensive) artform.
The year before our first child was born, my wife and I spent a good $200 on costuming and make-up to make the best costumes we ever had in our lives to wear while we handed out candy. And now that we do have kids, everything has come full circle and Trick or Treating is back in vogue.
But it was really the year that we dressed up as vampires that I first noticed the strong opposition some people had against Halloween. Our next-door neighbors (actually, the people who shared our duplex) saw us dressed as we were and refused to speak to us for months. I started noticing all the Trick or Treat "alternatives" being offered at churches and schools. And while my elementary school had a Halloween costume parade through the neighborhood when I was younger, I learned that they obliterated the word "Halloween" and told kids to dress as their "favorite character from literature" without offering any reason why on October 31st.
I can't stand the constant reminders that you need to be "safe." In my neighborhood, kids go out and play every night--at least this night they have their parents around and everyone should be looking out for them. And Snopes has a good article speaking to why you dont' have too much to be afraid of your Halloween candy.
I guess this isn't new. My parents, I'm sure, could tell stories about opposition in their times. Heck, there was opposition thousands of years ago! But I guess that's kind of comforting; it's been around forever and it's not going anywhere.
Being very interested in the holiday, I've spend a bit of time researching its roots. It's fascinating to see how a ceremony of death, harvest, endings and beginnings can run through so many cultures in so many different ways. And while its roots are dark, creepy, and revolve around death, I just can't find anything evil about it.
Even in its most roucus forms the holiday really perpetuates the goodness of our kind. The fact that we dress as demons and monsters isn't a form of devil worship so much as it is a testiment to free will: we show the world we can act however we want, be murderers, pirates, beasts, but that we choose not to (at least 364 days of the year). For those reasons, I really support not the dawning of commercial characters or role-playing as firemen and princesses, but the adoption of that which morbidly fascinates us. At least that's much more in the spirit of things.
We went to a pumpkin patch this past weekend that had a cornfield maze and a jack-o-lantern walk during the night time. My daughters were a bit scared of those elements, but I am content to let them be scared. I tell them that being scared at Halloween is fun: we toy with the ideas of fright and recognize how vacant it is most days of our lives.
But then again, they're both being princesses for Halloween.
While our current version may be much more commercial than I'd like it to be, the fact that it does make money for the big-wigs may at least serve the purpose of keeping it around and popular in the modern age. There are many sects of Paganism that still treat the date as New Years: a time to banish what didn't like about the past year, letting them drop away from your life like leaves, and adopt new ideas for the rebirth. And much as Easter still contains elements of Paganism that are really hard to explian relating to our modern interpretations, the commercial elements perpetuate them, for better or for worse.
I find it easy to embrace many sides of the holiday. In a culture where we hide death and fear away as best we can, it's a time when we can bridge conversations with our families about them. And though we spent way too much money on costumes, pumpkins, and candy, we can thank those elements for keeping old traditions in the mainstream.
Whatever your family's Halloween traditions, I hope you all have a good one!
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Learning how to Lose
Too often in my life, I've been witness to highly respectible people being down in the dumps, upset, and downright angry when they're favorite college football team loses. And they--very strangely--swell up with pride when they find that same favorite group of 18-22 year old underacheiving students with more points on the board than the other team when the clock runs out. And in both cases, I just don't get it.
I was playing HiHo Cherry-O with my daughters yesterday. And when Solstice was within one blueberry of winning, she spun a "spilled bucket." This, of course, meant that she was back to square one, haing to empty her bucket back onto the tree. You know, like in real blueberry picking.
Without much respect for the real-life situation of spinning a spilled bucket, she threw a massive fit. She wanted to win, she said. If she wanted to be happy, well, she had to win, she told us over and over. I did not let her get by this; she put her blueberries back on the tree, tears making rivers on her face and wails woven into the fabric of the air.
I felt mean. After all, it's a stupid game. I mean, really, spilling bucket? Do you know how many times each of the three of us spun a spilled bucket during that game? Having a 15% of having to start over every spin means that a game can go on just about forever.
Candy Land is another dumb game. I used to love it--I mean love it--when I was little. But now I see that all you need to do is shuffle the cards, decide how many players are going to play, and the game is already over; the end is predestined. There's no skill involved at all--whatever card comes next decides how many blue squares you go or how many spaces you skip if it's a special card. And every time I just pray that one of my daughters will get that blasted Princess Frostie card and advance the game to the final round.
I don't mean to be impatient with their games. After all, they love them. But what they don't see is that the overall value of these games can be boiled to one learned skill: how to lose.
I went to a very small middle school that specialized in the fine arts. We were good at those things; I never once lost a jazz band competition. But man, did we ever stink at sports.
And we wanted to be good at them. We knew what it was like to win, but it never happened in those oh-so-valuable physical contests. One might excel at a solo sport, like a track event or wrestling, but team sports were--much like Candy Land--decided before the first whistle: we were going to lose.
But there was something valuable in this. We were all good sports. We enjoyed the game and when we would pull ahead in baseball, or spike the ball in volleyball, we'd go wild. The excitement was not only invigorating, but did it ever make the other team mad. So what if we hit a solo homerun? We were still 12 points behind! Why were we so infuriatingly happy about it?
And man, when we'd win, we'd talk about it for a month.
We were liberated in sports from the importance of it all. We were able to see why sports were fun in the first place and it had nothing to do with winning. It had to do with pushing yourself, getting better, and accomplishing what you didn't think you could just a few weeks ago. We were excited about small accomplishments of our teammates. And when we'd lose, the bus ride home would be filled with happiness, laughter, and storytelling.
This ended when we all transfered to bigger high schools and learned the oneness of winning all over again. We learned that when you lost, bus rides home were spent in quiet self-condemnation. Or else you had to run a mile before getting into the locker room.
You try and guess which one was more fun.
So when four of us play HiHo Cherry-O, three of us are going to lose. And it's the loser's job to be excited for the winner. And when I kick myself for unknowingly drawing Princess Frostie and all but slaughtering my toddlers in Candy Land, I need to remember what's really at stake.
If the game weren't fun, there'd be no reason to win. And if it is fun, there's no shame in losing. If it's not fun, there's no sense in playing.
I just have to keep asking myself: when will my kids be ready for Chutes-N-Ladders?
I was playing HiHo Cherry-O with my daughters yesterday. And when Solstice was within one blueberry of winning, she spun a "spilled bucket." This, of course, meant that she was back to square one, haing to empty her bucket back onto the tree. You know, like in real blueberry picking.
Without much respect for the real-life situation of spinning a spilled bucket, she threw a massive fit. She wanted to win, she said. If she wanted to be happy, well, she had to win, she told us over and over. I did not let her get by this; she put her blueberries back on the tree, tears making rivers on her face and wails woven into the fabric of the air.
I felt mean. After all, it's a stupid game. I mean, really, spilling bucket? Do you know how many times each of the three of us spun a spilled bucket during that game? Having a 15% of having to start over every spin means that a game can go on just about forever.
Candy Land is another dumb game. I used to love it--I mean love it--when I was little. But now I see that all you need to do is shuffle the cards, decide how many players are going to play, and the game is already over; the end is predestined. There's no skill involved at all--whatever card comes next decides how many blue squares you go or how many spaces you skip if it's a special card. And every time I just pray that one of my daughters will get that blasted Princess Frostie card and advance the game to the final round.
I don't mean to be impatient with their games. After all, they love them. But what they don't see is that the overall value of these games can be boiled to one learned skill: how to lose.
I went to a very small middle school that specialized in the fine arts. We were good at those things; I never once lost a jazz band competition. But man, did we ever stink at sports.
And we wanted to be good at them. We knew what it was like to win, but it never happened in those oh-so-valuable physical contests. One might excel at a solo sport, like a track event or wrestling, but team sports were--much like Candy Land--decided before the first whistle: we were going to lose.
But there was something valuable in this. We were all good sports. We enjoyed the game and when we would pull ahead in baseball, or spike the ball in volleyball, we'd go wild. The excitement was not only invigorating, but did it ever make the other team mad. So what if we hit a solo homerun? We were still 12 points behind! Why were we so infuriatingly happy about it?
And man, when we'd win, we'd talk about it for a month.
We were liberated in sports from the importance of it all. We were able to see why sports were fun in the first place and it had nothing to do with winning. It had to do with pushing yourself, getting better, and accomplishing what you didn't think you could just a few weeks ago. We were excited about small accomplishments of our teammates. And when we'd lose, the bus ride home would be filled with happiness, laughter, and storytelling.
This ended when we all transfered to bigger high schools and learned the oneness of winning all over again. We learned that when you lost, bus rides home were spent in quiet self-condemnation. Or else you had to run a mile before getting into the locker room.
You try and guess which one was more fun.
So when four of us play HiHo Cherry-O, three of us are going to lose. And it's the loser's job to be excited for the winner. And when I kick myself for unknowingly drawing Princess Frostie and all but slaughtering my toddlers in Candy Land, I need to remember what's really at stake.
If the game weren't fun, there'd be no reason to win. And if it is fun, there's no shame in losing. If it's not fun, there's no sense in playing.
I just have to keep asking myself: when will my kids be ready for Chutes-N-Ladders?
Monday, October 20, 2008
Bringing Home Bad Habits
There's a new daily fight in our house. It's an all-out war that is guaranteed to end in hurt feelings, yelling, screaming, crying, and ruined feelings. It's about who is going to be the "line leader" when we leave the house.
They run. They push. They grab. They try and scare each other by lying about spiders or ants near the door. Yes, these are my angels of two and three. My older daughter is actually distraught when we get to a red light and are not the line leader of the light. She suggests that we turn or wait so we can be. Where did they get this idea that they need to be the first one out the door? God knows that their mother and I don't model this behavoir. And they can't possibly get it from TV.
They got it from "The little school."
They go to daycare at the college twice a week for a couple hours so that my wife can attend classes while I'm teaching classes. It's reasonably priced, run by people very vested in education, and its rarity in the week gives my daughters a strange sense of importance, being away from us.
But this line leader fight has got to stop. It has to, really.
I tried detracting from the importance of being the line leader. I tried to show why it had no real value, since the second and even third or fourth person out the door leaves within the same span of five seconds. That didn't work.
I tried initiating turns, encouraging them to be excited for the other one when it was her turn. That didn't work.
I tried letting the first girl out, closing the door, electing the second girl line leader, and opening it again. That fell flat. And nothing made them scream louder than when I decided that I was the all-time line leader for the rest of their natural lives.
I've installed a socialist regime in regards to who gets to be the line leader. One cannot become line leader by deeds alone. We have a chalk message board by the door and everyday I will write the designated line leader's name on the board. The board will guide us through our weeks. All will put their faith in the wisdom of the board.
If this doesn't work, I'm taking the damn door off.
But really, this whole line leader thing, as bad as it is, is just the tip of the iceberg. Hell, the other day, Solstice said she wanted a Barbie for her birthday--a Barbie! Where in the hell did she learn about those? I've gone through great pains to keep the secret of our patriarchal society hidden deep in the shadows of the ether. But the word is out, they know who Barbie is. (It turns out they read a Barbie book at little school. Wha-what? I thought this was about education!)
This is all thanks to their favorite weekly activity, going to little school.
I know, I get it, I'm overprotective, I'm sheltering, I'm trying to control their cognitive realities to match an idealized version of my own vision of the world. It's easy for me to justify since I'm someone who doesn't believe in an unconditional reality, but a socially constructed one. But what's with this whole conforming to the lowest denominator thing? Can we not make better decisions than the mass media does about how our children should view the world?
Like I said, this is the tip of the iceberg for us. In so many realms, peers influence children so much more than their parents do. Children of parents with strong accents don't grow up to reflect them if their peers don't have the same accents.
So I have to stick with other ideals of mine. I have to see this whole line leader thing as an opportunity; a chance for me to practice making the worlds of our home life mesh with the worlds of their social lives. I never thought it would be easy, but I was banking on Mattel going out of business by now.
They run. They push. They grab. They try and scare each other by lying about spiders or ants near the door. Yes, these are my angels of two and three. My older daughter is actually distraught when we get to a red light and are not the line leader of the light. She suggests that we turn or wait so we can be. Where did they get this idea that they need to be the first one out the door? God knows that their mother and I don't model this behavoir. And they can't possibly get it from TV.
They got it from "The little school."
They go to daycare at the college twice a week for a couple hours so that my wife can attend classes while I'm teaching classes. It's reasonably priced, run by people very vested in education, and its rarity in the week gives my daughters a strange sense of importance, being away from us.
But this line leader fight has got to stop. It has to, really.
I tried detracting from the importance of being the line leader. I tried to show why it had no real value, since the second and even third or fourth person out the door leaves within the same span of five seconds. That didn't work.
I tried initiating turns, encouraging them to be excited for the other one when it was her turn. That didn't work.
I tried letting the first girl out, closing the door, electing the second girl line leader, and opening it again. That fell flat. And nothing made them scream louder than when I decided that I was the all-time line leader for the rest of their natural lives.
I've installed a socialist regime in regards to who gets to be the line leader. One cannot become line leader by deeds alone. We have a chalk message board by the door and everyday I will write the designated line leader's name on the board. The board will guide us through our weeks. All will put their faith in the wisdom of the board.
If this doesn't work, I'm taking the damn door off.
But really, this whole line leader thing, as bad as it is, is just the tip of the iceberg. Hell, the other day, Solstice said she wanted a Barbie for her birthday--a Barbie! Where in the hell did she learn about those? I've gone through great pains to keep the secret of our patriarchal society hidden deep in the shadows of the ether. But the word is out, they know who Barbie is. (It turns out they read a Barbie book at little school. Wha-what? I thought this was about education!)
This is all thanks to their favorite weekly activity, going to little school.
I know, I get it, I'm overprotective, I'm sheltering, I'm trying to control their cognitive realities to match an idealized version of my own vision of the world. It's easy for me to justify since I'm someone who doesn't believe in an unconditional reality, but a socially constructed one. But what's with this whole conforming to the lowest denominator thing? Can we not make better decisions than the mass media does about how our children should view the world?
Like I said, this is the tip of the iceberg for us. In so many realms, peers influence children so much more than their parents do. Children of parents with strong accents don't grow up to reflect them if their peers don't have the same accents.
So I have to stick with other ideals of mine. I have to see this whole line leader thing as an opportunity; a chance for me to practice making the worlds of our home life mesh with the worlds of their social lives. I never thought it would be easy, but I was banking on Mattel going out of business by now.
Saturday, October 11, 2008
Achieving Dreams: Here's one of mine.
I know, I know. I promised you that I wouldn't run ads on this blog. And if you've been around the site in the last few days, you've probably noticed the ad that's sitting directly to the right for my book. I figure since it's an ad for something I did, it doesn't count as selling out.
But this is pretty big for me.
If you've been reading this blog long, you've probably noticed that I think I'm some kind of writer. It's what I've always wanted to be when I grew up. I reach writing at a college and love the job, but it was important to me never to drop the dream of seeing my work in print; of hearing people tell me what they thought of a story of mine; of knowing that I contributed something--however humble--to the world of literature.
And it has happened for me.
I wrote a short story almost 10 years ago that I always wanted to turn into a novel. I got busy with my education, with a wife and finally kids and a career. But I never wanted that dream of mine to go away.
Along came NaNoWriMo; a yearly challenge to make people finally write that novel they've always wanted to. I with a newborn and an almost-two-year-old, it didn't look like it was going to happen for me.
Enter my mother in-law. She came for a visit for 8 days. It was two extra hands around the house--hands that wanted to play with the girls and keep them company. I set aside some of my work, was sure to grade all my papers before she got there, and the first night she was off the plane, I started writing. I wrote furiously and felt the story really come alive. I counted my words, approaching the goal of 50,000 in order to "win" NaNoWriMo. I not only got there, but went far beyond to finish the story.
It was a feverish 8 days that left me with a lot more work in the revision area.
I wrote to agents. I sent away to publishers. I entered contests. The responses I got always seemed genuinely encouraging, but I never could find the niche.
Then, last year, I read the call for submissions from Jupiter Gardens Press. What they were looking for seemed to be exactly what I had written. They were a new outfit and wanted something they believed in for their first publication.
I am honored to be their first author.
Being a new press, they focus first sales on ebooks. They hope to take advantage of the emerging market, as more and more people are reading books--and blogs--on their computers and on hand-held readers. After the book has shown promise in the e-market, they go into a print form to take on the other market.
I'm excited--very excited--to have my book in print. But it just doen't work out for me unless people read it, too. So I'm asking you to put aside the low-low price of $5 to buy a copy of my book. Read it, and tell me what you honestly think of it.
If you do like it--and you sure as hell don't have to--I'd like you to write a review of it. Write it on the Amazon page, or any other vendor where it is sold. Write it on your own blog, or link it on a sidebar. If you believe in dreams and aspirations coming true, you can do a huge part of helping mine to come true. And I will, as always, return the favor.
Now, I know this is an abuse of my readers, but this is something I'm excited about. I realize now that this narrative has strayed from the literary merits of my novel. I would never try and publish--much less sell you--a novel that I didn't believe in. To me, it's a wonderful book, right up my alley. I would love it if you would read about the book here and take your time to make up your mind.
Thank you all for reading this blog, and I promise it will go on to it's regularly scheduled work and dedication with the next post.
Thank you, very much. From my whole family.
But this is pretty big for me.
If you've been reading this blog long, you've probably noticed that I think I'm some kind of writer. It's what I've always wanted to be when I grew up. I reach writing at a college and love the job, but it was important to me never to drop the dream of seeing my work in print; of hearing people tell me what they thought of a story of mine; of knowing that I contributed something--however humble--to the world of literature.
And it has happened for me.
I wrote a short story almost 10 years ago that I always wanted to turn into a novel. I got busy with my education, with a wife and finally kids and a career. But I never wanted that dream of mine to go away.
Along came NaNoWriMo; a yearly challenge to make people finally write that novel they've always wanted to. I with a newborn and an almost-two-year-old, it didn't look like it was going to happen for me.
Enter my mother in-law. She came for a visit for 8 days. It was two extra hands around the house--hands that wanted to play with the girls and keep them company. I set aside some of my work, was sure to grade all my papers before she got there, and the first night she was off the plane, I started writing. I wrote furiously and felt the story really come alive. I counted my words, approaching the goal of 50,000 in order to "win" NaNoWriMo. I not only got there, but went far beyond to finish the story.
It was a feverish 8 days that left me with a lot more work in the revision area.
I wrote to agents. I sent away to publishers. I entered contests. The responses I got always seemed genuinely encouraging, but I never could find the niche.
Then, last year, I read the call for submissions from Jupiter Gardens Press. What they were looking for seemed to be exactly what I had written. They were a new outfit and wanted something they believed in for their first publication.
I am honored to be their first author.
Being a new press, they focus first sales on ebooks. They hope to take advantage of the emerging market, as more and more people are reading books--and blogs--on their computers and on hand-held readers. After the book has shown promise in the e-market, they go into a print form to take on the other market.
I'm excited--very excited--to have my book in print. But it just doen't work out for me unless people read it, too. So I'm asking you to put aside the low-low price of $5 to buy a copy of my book. Read it, and tell me what you honestly think of it.
If you do like it--and you sure as hell don't have to--I'd like you to write a review of it. Write it on the Amazon page, or any other vendor where it is sold. Write it on your own blog, or link it on a sidebar. If you believe in dreams and aspirations coming true, you can do a huge part of helping mine to come true. And I will, as always, return the favor.
Now, I know this is an abuse of my readers, but this is something I'm excited about. I realize now that this narrative has strayed from the literary merits of my novel. I would never try and publish--much less sell you--a novel that I didn't believe in. To me, it's a wonderful book, right up my alley. I would love it if you would read about the book here and take your time to make up your mind.
Thank you all for reading this blog, and I promise it will go on to it's regularly scheduled work and dedication with the next post.
Thank you, very much. From my whole family.
Thursday, October 9, 2008
Top 5 Halloween Specials
I'm reposting this one because it's getting a ton of hits right now and I want to be sure to update the links. The links, in fact, have gotten much better this year; They change from year to year with copyright nonsense.
What a lot of the younger generation doesn't know is that before prime-time shows had so much clout, networks used to play lots of specials for ratings, especially around the holidays. These days, viewers don't want to put up with a disruption in 24 or Survivor because of something so insignificant as All Hallow's. Maybe--just maybe--a sitcom will do a Halloween-themed episode for the enjoyment of the season. The Simpsons has a string of great ones--but because of Baseball season, they only play in November, rendering them pointless, at best, until the season hits DVD.
So if you're looking for some good ole Halloween specials to show your kids, so that they can know a different age of the commercial side of things, here are my top 5 ones:
Garfield's Halloween Adventure
This is a classic. Before Garfield had his Saturday morning show, he was only used on TV for special presentations like this one. What I loved most about this one as a kid was the fact that Garfield has such a perfect adventure for the night. First of all, he and Odie dress like pirates. Awesome. Then they go trick-or-treating, which is treated as mildly scary. And from there they live every kid's fantasy: a real adventure begins for them with real dangers, like pirate ghosts!
Ray Bradbury's "The Halloween Tree"
Bradbury was disappointed with many of the Halloween specials out there. Mainly, he couldn't stand the Charlie Brown and the Great Pumpkin special. He thought it was such a let-down for kids; the pumpkin never comes, friendships don't mend, there is no adventure to speak of. Bradbury wanted to make something for kids that would be exciting and would teach some of the roots of the holiday. It's pretty well done, as is the book.
Witch's Night Out
Unfortunately, there is no video for this one. The copyright holders requested that it be removed from YouTube, and it is not in print in any DVD or VHS anymore. It was a rare jewel, indeed though. This cartoon stared Gilda Radner, made little or no real sense, had a low-budget feel, but somehow was essential to my Halloweens as a child. It has an IMDB page, but don't be fooled by that cover shot; it was an addition to the 1994 VHS release and has absolutely nothing to do with the movie, whatsoever. Let me know if you ever get a hold of this one.
Halloween is Grinch Night
Irreparably inferior to the Grinch's Christmas outing, this one still has a lot to offer. Suess wrote this for the small screen directly, skipping print publication. It's a silly little story of a boy who challenges the Grinch on Halloween and stands up in the face of a grade-A scaring. The fright fest that the Grinch imposes on this boy is really the best part. You just have to get over the fact that this is no Grinch Stole Christmas.
Legend of Sleepy Hallow
There's nothing like this one. While the Halloweenish part only last the last five minutes or so, the autumnal atmosphere is complete throughout. Bing Crosby is a lot of fun as narrator and every voice. This cartoon is rarely seen these days.
Bonus:
Disney's Halloween Treat
This was a straight-to-video release that made several rounds on the Disney Channel and ABC's Wonderful World of Disney back in the 80's. It's a rehashing of scary bits of Disney movies put together by a cheap little talking pumpkin. Despite the low budget, it remains the best way to see the best clips of the headless horseman, Night on Bald Mountain, and several other Disney classic clips.
Bonus: Silly Symphonies Skeleton Dance
You just don't see cartoons like this. Walt made this one back in the 30's before the cartoon genre was defined as purley for kids. It's creepy, it's weird, and there are strange perspectives used that don't ever pop up in cartoondom again (watch for when the skeleton jumps at the screen).
Hopefully these classic Halloween specials will help to remind you of your childhood and what made the holiday special for you. I'm a staunch proponent of the holiday and am working on a more serious posting about it soon.
What a lot of the younger generation doesn't know is that before prime-time shows had so much clout, networks used to play lots of specials for ratings, especially around the holidays. These days, viewers don't want to put up with a disruption in 24 or Survivor because of something so insignificant as All Hallow's. Maybe--just maybe--a sitcom will do a Halloween-themed episode for the enjoyment of the season. The Simpsons has a string of great ones--but because of Baseball season, they only play in November, rendering them pointless, at best, until the season hits DVD.
So if you're looking for some good ole Halloween specials to show your kids, so that they can know a different age of the commercial side of things, here are my top 5 ones:
Garfield's Halloween Adventure
This is a classic. Before Garfield had his Saturday morning show, he was only used on TV for special presentations like this one. What I loved most about this one as a kid was the fact that Garfield has such a perfect adventure for the night. First of all, he and Odie dress like pirates. Awesome. Then they go trick-or-treating, which is treated as mildly scary. And from there they live every kid's fantasy: a real adventure begins for them with real dangers, like pirate ghosts!
Ray Bradbury's "The Halloween Tree"
Bradbury was disappointed with many of the Halloween specials out there. Mainly, he couldn't stand the Charlie Brown and the Great Pumpkin special. He thought it was such a let-down for kids; the pumpkin never comes, friendships don't mend, there is no adventure to speak of. Bradbury wanted to make something for kids that would be exciting and would teach some of the roots of the holiday. It's pretty well done, as is the book.
Witch's Night Out
Unfortunately, there is no video for this one. The copyright holders requested that it be removed from YouTube, and it is not in print in any DVD or VHS anymore. It was a rare jewel, indeed though. This cartoon stared Gilda Radner, made little or no real sense, had a low-budget feel, but somehow was essential to my Halloweens as a child. It has an IMDB page, but don't be fooled by that cover shot; it was an addition to the 1994 VHS release and has absolutely nothing to do with the movie, whatsoever. Let me know if you ever get a hold of this one.
Halloween is Grinch Night
Irreparably inferior to the Grinch's Christmas outing, this one still has a lot to offer. Suess wrote this for the small screen directly, skipping print publication. It's a silly little story of a boy who challenges the Grinch on Halloween and stands up in the face of a grade-A scaring. The fright fest that the Grinch imposes on this boy is really the best part. You just have to get over the fact that this is no Grinch Stole Christmas.
Legend of Sleepy Hallow
There's nothing like this one. While the Halloweenish part only last the last five minutes or so, the autumnal atmosphere is complete throughout. Bing Crosby is a lot of fun as narrator and every voice. This cartoon is rarely seen these days.
Bonus:
Disney's Halloween Treat
This was a straight-to-video release that made several rounds on the Disney Channel and ABC's Wonderful World of Disney back in the 80's. It's a rehashing of scary bits of Disney movies put together by a cheap little talking pumpkin. Despite the low budget, it remains the best way to see the best clips of the headless horseman, Night on Bald Mountain, and several other Disney classic clips.
Bonus: Silly Symphonies Skeleton Dance
You just don't see cartoons like this. Walt made this one back in the 30's before the cartoon genre was defined as purley for kids. It's creepy, it's weird, and there are strange perspectives used that don't ever pop up in cartoondom again (watch for when the skeleton jumps at the screen).
Hopefully these classic Halloween specials will help to remind you of your childhood and what made the holiday special for you. I'm a staunch proponent of the holiday and am working on a more serious posting about it soon.
Monday, October 6, 2008
Citizenship and Personal Freedom
Before we get started, today is the last day in most states to register to vote. If you're in the USA, take the time to register. You can do it online in many states. Or, you can stop by a post office. Make the time to do this.
Now. We stand on the edge of an election here in The States. It's a big one. For the first time in many, many elections, a sitting president or vice president is nowhere to be found on either of the major party tickets. Or, I guess, on any of the third party tickets, come to think of it. With it being such a big election--one destined for forging a new social history no matter what the outcome--emotions are running high.
I don't want to cloud the message of this entry with a presidential endorsement: that's not the point.
With emotions as high as they are, I keep hearing this phrase over and over again: "If (candidate) doesn't win, then I'm moving to (foreign country)."
When did this trend start happening? When did the American people decide that their society was out of their control? We are not subjects to our government, but citizens of it. If you don't like your social reality, take control of it. If there's a cause or an issue that you feel strongly about, do something about it. If you're not happy with the way your government is run, take control of it.
The American people have a problem with reliance. We have come to believe that we must rely on others for our every need. We buy "ready-meals" at the store when we don't go out to eat; we are told over and over that there is not enough time in the day, enforcing our stressed notions; we are told to call AAA instead of changing our own tire; our clothes and style are prescribed to us; we medicate ourselves instead of changing the ways that we live; we let the school systems decide what is important for our kids to learn and how to learn it; we pay for TV channels and still sit through the commercials; we let other people clean our houses, park our cars, walk our dogs, and raise our kids.
Yes, no man is an island and many hands have gone into forging the world where we live. But why do we think that we can exert no control? Our commercial-driven society has no doubt contributed to that. I think our educational system, K-College, has taught us that even learning is the duty of the infrastructure. But our reliance has made us complacent. We have forgotten that we can help to forge our surroundings.
The election doesn't go the way you want? You don't agree with the direction of the current administration is going? Don't roll over and take it. Don't head out of the country. Citizenship is the responsibility of a patriot. We have a responsibility to contribute at the local, state, and national level to the creation of our society.
Stop letting everyone else create society for you. Be the maker of your own reality. Make the world more like you want it to be for your children. The country needs you.
Now. We stand on the edge of an election here in The States. It's a big one. For the first time in many, many elections, a sitting president or vice president is nowhere to be found on either of the major party tickets. Or, I guess, on any of the third party tickets, come to think of it. With it being such a big election--one destined for forging a new social history no matter what the outcome--emotions are running high.
I don't want to cloud the message of this entry with a presidential endorsement: that's not the point.
With emotions as high as they are, I keep hearing this phrase over and over again: "If (candidate) doesn't win, then I'm moving to (foreign country)."
When did this trend start happening? When did the American people decide that their society was out of their control? We are not subjects to our government, but citizens of it. If you don't like your social reality, take control of it. If there's a cause or an issue that you feel strongly about, do something about it. If you're not happy with the way your government is run, take control of it.
The American people have a problem with reliance. We have come to believe that we must rely on others for our every need. We buy "ready-meals" at the store when we don't go out to eat; we are told over and over that there is not enough time in the day, enforcing our stressed notions; we are told to call AAA instead of changing our own tire; our clothes and style are prescribed to us; we medicate ourselves instead of changing the ways that we live; we let the school systems decide what is important for our kids to learn and how to learn it; we pay for TV channels and still sit through the commercials; we let other people clean our houses, park our cars, walk our dogs, and raise our kids.
Yes, no man is an island and many hands have gone into forging the world where we live. But why do we think that we can exert no control? Our commercial-driven society has no doubt contributed to that. I think our educational system, K-College, has taught us that even learning is the duty of the infrastructure. But our reliance has made us complacent. We have forgotten that we can help to forge our surroundings.
The election doesn't go the way you want? You don't agree with the direction of the current administration is going? Don't roll over and take it. Don't head out of the country. Citizenship is the responsibility of a patriot. We have a responsibility to contribute at the local, state, and national level to the creation of our society.
Stop letting everyone else create society for you. Be the maker of your own reality. Make the world more like you want it to be for your children. The country needs you.
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