And so another month-long challenge begins with another challenge from a fellow human being (at least I think she is). Deborah over at … More Than Sweet Potatoes has been getting her kicks out of making sure that I stick to my guns and promises about this valiant return to WordPress. Unfortunately, I enter this room with infinite square footage quietly, sneaking in through the back. Since we are writers, I’ve written and designed this door — it’s a hatch that lifts up from the floor. I slither my way back in and stand against the back wall with my arms crossed, waiting for an opportunity to make a big reveal that goes a bit unnoticed.
Why? It’s the blogging world. There are millions of bloggers/writers out there striving for some kind of recognition. And we all can’t have this recognition.
I may or may not want the recognition. If I say I do, doubters will gloriously step in and call my absence out save their updating on the daily or regularly. Because they will get attention, but that kind of negativity can only get you so far … especially if the negative person’s writing is, well, shitty. Meanwhile, my only excuse is that I write for two other blogs on top of this.
But this is redundant.
Debbie sent me a prompt about this Halloween and how it ranks with the rest of them. Unfortunately, “adult” Halloweens can only be roped in with the same category. Adult Halloweens cannot compare to childhood holidays, because of the trick-or-treating aspect. You either do or you don’t. Running door-to-door to hit up as many houses as we could was a fun challenge, and making our way through snow-covered lawns and streets — yes, this is very true — always made the experiences that much better. However, as an adult, it seems we care more about the costumes.
Even the half-assed costumed. However, let this please be known, you can only be a half-assed “slutty something” for so long. I think 28 is a good age for that. Banking on such an excuse shows a lack of creativity in my opinion aside being intriguing to check out. But who am I do say? I dress as a slutty hobo on a daily basis, and I’m 31.
My Halloween celebration was a two-part event. The night before, I volunteered my time and handed out candy to kids at the Barnes-Hiscock Mansion in Syracuse. My passion for the place grows every time I drive by the place. And this first ever mansion Halloween proved to be a success with 150 kids walking around the halls, collecting candy and clues to spell out a secret message. The mansion itself was speculated as being incredible; many, many people walking around the halls had never known or considered this piece of historical architecture to be as wonderful as they found it out to be.
Unbeknownst to my role within the organization, they were asking questions that seemed almost rhetorical, and I proved to be a reliable source of information. Little did most of the people know that the place is, in fact, haunted; we’ll return to this for a brief moment.
Halloween night was spent with my brother and his fiance, handing out candy and watching horror movies. We first watched my sister-in-law’s favorite slasher flick, Scream, and that was followed by The Exorcist, a film she had yet to see. The former is definitely one of Wes Craven’s best films, and probably the quintessential blockbuster slasher film of my generation, considering I was a newly deemed a teenager when it was released in 1996. The Exorcist, however, is one of my favorite horror movies of all time. I find this movie truly scary, and a lot was accomplished without the heavily relied upon technology today. Even the remake of Evil Dead didn’t use CGI; expectations should be required.
I didn’t watch The Shining for once. I normally do. Regardless, find my shout-out to the movie above.
The kids were cute, however, both nights. It gave me hope for the future. Believe it or not, some of us, regardless of how skeptical we are about the future of this country, especially including us single-or-not early-30-something gents, contemplate having kids of our own one day. The one that cracked us up and became the talk of the night was this little Bat Girl. She talked up a storm to my brother about candy. When she saw another Starburst candy in the bowl, she told him she was going to take that piece as well, because her dad really liked that kind. My brother has a good heart, is great with kids, and couldn’t resist if he even tried; he, without question, let the kid have the extra candy.
As I enjoyed a Southern Tier Old Man Winter Ale, my brother brought out an impromptu use-up-leftovers Chicken Parmesan Pizza, which really made the night awesome.
So, with a history dating back to 1853, being an essential part of the Underground Railroad, one could expect such a mansion to have some supernatural activity within its historical walls. There is, actually. A fair amount, actually. The Champlain Valley Ghost Hunters recorded some proof on top of others’ personal stories/experiences.
And then there is me, someone who eats this stuff up. And I got permission for an upcoming post, but it might be a post for the Syracuse New Times, to stay overnight.
I play with words and invisible objects.
A mind, a pen and a piece paper have the best relationship ever.
"Remember this--if you shut your mouth, you have your choice."
- F. Scott Fitzgerald