..is recycling posts.
I'm stuck in yet another chapter or biting off more than I can chew. Here's the saga: John and I have agreed that our room desperately needs to be painted. I've picked out the color (Basketry in the Behr section of Home Depot) (looks like coffee liberally splashed with cream, just the way I like it) and my best friend is making her way to my side of the state by this evening for us to paint some stripe patterns on the walls, creating a subtle tone on tone look without the cost of wallpaper. To do this though, I need to have the walls dried with the base coats for 48 hours so we can apply tape without fear of damaging the fresh tint.
This means a whole lot of painting on a Thursday night because, you know, John's working, I've got to make dinner for Sprite, and still find a way to keep her entertained until bedtime, and now that the cold front has finally come in, after three solid days of rain and overcast gloominess, perfect setting for a scary story anyway, I feel like I OWE her an evening out with her bicycle or scooter or other owie inducing activity, so that means that painting will have started around her bedtime, 8 PM. How much can I get done in 2-3 hours? Not much.
So, due to this, I am recycling a post I wrote for a Spin Cycle almost 3 years ago. It's so old, it's new again:
Gather round, young children, for this urban legend is TRUE...
Back in the late 70's, early 80's, we lived in a suburban area of Fort Lauderdale where kids lined the streets every Pumpkin Day looking for some free loot.
I can't say the area we lived in was dangerous. I actually have fond memories of my old neighborhood, even the Oscar the Grouch green shag carpet that lined pretty much every square foot of our house save the kitchen,which was covered in orange/brown linoleum. (Pretty.)
Every year, I looked forward to the days preceding Halloween, when my peers would start planning out their costumes, their routes, what homes gave out the best candy, what homes to avoid, and how much candy they would cram into their mouths before Mom or Dad took it away and stole the good stuff.
Every year, I planned my costumes as well. I would be a cheerleader. I would be a bride. I would be a baton twirler. (That costume was easy. I was already in lessons so I had the baton and a costume. Wa-la. Baton twirler.) (It counts.)
Every year, I asked my mother if I could go trick or treating in the neighborhood.
Every year, she told me no.
My mom would explain that she needed help passing out the candy to the incoming traffic and I could sit out front with her to do it. When that didn't work on me, she would say that she was worried about some of the homes on the street where it had been rumored they gave out drug laced candy. When that didn't deter me either, she said Mr. Cool had been seen recently in the neighborhood and was walking around dressed as a ghost dropping poison into kiddie sacks to be gobbled up along with the rest of the goodies.
Okay, Mr. Cool scared me. He was rumored to run an ice cream truck and deal drugs and trick children into taking illegal pills and whatnot. Whenever we would hear the ice cream truck coming down our street, my sister and I would clamor for our mother's attention. "Can we have ice cream? Please? We've been oh so good and promise not to fight at all for the rest of the day!" Sometimes, this long plea was said in unison. (What can I say? Practice makes perfect.)
My mother would look through her purse and then out the window at the approaching bells. Some days, she would agree and walk out with us to pick out our cold novelties, reminding us that this would replace any after dinner treats. Completely worth it. She herself would indulge in a rocket pop or the like and the three of us would sit out front slurping our concoctions while chatting with each other and wandering kids before Lee and I got into our next fight, thus rendering our earlier peace treaty worthless.
Then some days, Mom would peer out the front window before she even looked through her purse and say, "Oh, no. Not today. That's Mr. Cool's truck. We can't get anything from HIM."
Lee and I would pause in whatever we were doing (usually fighting) and run over to see the mysterious Mr. Cool from the safety of our home. His face was always shrouded by the awning over the side counter. We never did get a proper look of the man who was keeping us away from our summertime fun. Off and on during the years we lived in that neighborhood, he would appear, and we would be banned from ice cream because of a little thing like poison and death.
Looking back on this now, I realize this may have been the first prank played on me. In fact, I really don't believe Mr. Cool ever existed. I believe now that this was my mother's ruse to get out of buying us ice cream. Maybe we were being naughty little girls (a common occurrence, one I have to admit to) and she didn't think we were worthy of a valuable snack such as ice cream. Maybe she didn't think we had choked down enough broccoli the night before and therefore ice cream would not be on the menu today. Maybe she wasn't in the mood for it herself and decided if she doesn't have ice cream, then neither could we.
Whatever the case, her stories of Mr. Cool harming and doing away with innocent children raised him onto a pedestal for me, one to be shared with the likes of Freddy Krueger and the Boogie Man.
Case in point: Remember when you were a small child in the age range of 5-9 and generally every dark character seemed to scare you? You would be sitting in the backseat of the car, riding in a dark city on a dark night, checking to make sure your door was locked in case the Boogie Man decided to try to snatch you, because the locked door would keep him at bay and he wasn't a trained locksmith. Or maybe he was already in the car and hiding in the dark pit of the floor just below your seat and you raised your feet up to make sure he couldn't grab at you. (No? Just me?) Well, take the Boogie Man out of the scenario and insert Mr. Cool and you have my childhood monster.
Which my mom could have made up... Because she WAS EVIL!
Not much on the spooky stories this week, but we make up for that in QUALITY:
CaJoh over at Ca-Joh -Updated Friday! Fresh Spin!
Stacy over at Stacy Uncorked -Updated Friday! Fresh Spin!
Peg over at Square Peg in a Round Hole -Updated Friday! Fresh Spin!
Gretchen over at Second Blooming -Updated Friday! Fresh Spin!
Michele over at It's A Dog's Life -Updated Friday! Fresh Spin!
Next Week's SPOOKY Cycle topic: More Halloween! We're looking for Halloween Then and Now
What were your favorite Halloween activities growing up? How has the holiday changed since the younger generation came through and cleaned out the treat bowls before you could get your hands on a Snickers Fun Size?
Are you more of a curmudgeon who turns off all your lights in an effort to not spend the money on candy anymore? Do you go all out in your decorations, opening up your garage or front yard to little trick or treaters to have a bit of Halloween fun?
Do you pretend Halloween doesn't even exist and fake ignorance when the cashier at the store is smiling with faux fangs?
Write it up, add some candy residue and send it in for the Spooktacular Spoooky Cycle!