Yesterday, Brian saw Bill Clinton walking along the road in Mt. Kisco (sister town to Chappaqua, where Clinton lives). It was kind of in the middle of nowhere, across the street from a Friendly’s and around the corner from cemetery. Brian was with his friend D and D’s dad. Apparently D’s dad called out, “Hey Bill!”. I asked Brian, “Do you think it’s an omen, you running into the last Democratic president right before the election?” Brian asked me, “What’s an ‘omen’?”
I just sat through the worst movie ever: “Gerry”. Nothing happens in it. Well, two things happen, really, and neither of them are particularly interesting, although theoretically the second one should have been. I think what is supposed to be interesting is the way that the shots mirror what must be the emotions of the characters, or what you might figure to be the emotions of the characters if they weren’t severely handicapped by utter stupidity. Come to think of it, “Gerry” is kind of like “Beavis and Butthead Get Lost In The Desert”, minus almost all dialogue and minus all comedy. I just read that there are only 100 shots in this 100 minute movie, which means that each shot is averages 60 seconds. Can you imagine? Try.
And then there was Halloween. Which I hate, like all redblooded American parents do after their kids grow out of their pumpkin-onesies. And for me, someone who feels anxious in large crowds, it is particularly unpleasant.
Since I live in the middle of nowhere, no one ever rings my doorbell. I guess that makes things easy for me, since I don’t have to worry about staying home to man the door. On the other hand, it means that I have to drive my kids elsewhere for trick-or-treating. On the other other hand, most people of my town are in the same boat, so it has evolved over the years (I am told) that 90 percent of all trick-or-treating happens in just three small neighborhoods.
Neighorhood Number One is famous for its Halloween Pyrotechnics. The houses are on 1/8 acres, and so there’s a LOT of theatrics per square foot: smoke machines in makeshift front lawn graveyards, adults in costume as they give out candy, strobe lights, noise machines, fire pits, trampolines filled with ghouls, scary movies projected onto the sides of houses. HUGE HUGE crowds. If you want to “see and be seen”, this is the place. Of course, it’s really dark, and everyone is wearing black. And I think people come to Neighborhood Number One from other towns as well. To me, the drawback is the chaos. To the kids, the drawback is that each house gives out only one piece of candy (and I’m told that they still run through 30 bags apiece).
Neighborhood Number Two is famous for its generosity. They give out giant candy bars and dump bowls of candy into your bag. Also, the older kids hang out there, so there’s the cool factor. The neighborhood is one-acre zoning, and quite hilly in parts, so it takes a bit longer to get around, but apparently, it’s worth it if you do. Rating: Highest Wow Factor.
Neighborhood Number Three is a development right off of the Old Post Road, which itself is right off of Main Street. In other words, centrally located, which is a big selling point for me. Another The decor is nothing compared to Neighborhood Number 1, but everyone in this particular neighborhood gives out handfuls of candy, or leaves the candy on the stoop and lets you just grab what you want. Plus, it’s a condo development, where half of the houses are attached in twos, and the other half are stand-alone but with almost no space between. So, you can get a lot of candy really quickly. Rating: Highest Efficiency.
Both of my kids were invited to Halloween parties, and then Brian ended up in the Neighborhood Number 3. I met Adam at Neighborhood Number 1, after which he expressed frustration because of how little candy he felt he had scored (only 103 pieces). So, we drove over to Neighborhood Number 2 and filled his bag to the brim in record time.
I feel sort of exhausted today. Did Bikram yesterday plus all of my Ashtanga poses from Mari A on. Man, was I loose after that Bikram class. It’s funny – I complained halfway through the class that the fans were blowing on me, but ultimately, the fact that I didn’t get insanely sweaty the way I do when I take Bikram in Manhattan, meant that I had some juice left for my Ashtanga poses afterwards. Sometimes less IS more.
Did I just say that?