Growing up, our family’s entire Halloween costume repertoire consisted of three choices: hobo, gypsy, or ghost.
Trick or treat?
It’s not that we were lacking in creativity; we were blase and simply lacking ideas. It was the 1960’s.
All the kids in the neighborhood wore homemade costumes and there wasn’t a Martha Stewart–type around for miles. Or decades. Our single, solitary Halloween goal was to amass candy. And, lots of it.
My industrious older brother would do his first dash around the neighborhood as a hobo, replete with burnt cork smudges for special effect. An hour later, he would return home to change into his famous ghost costume, which consisted solely of a white sheet.
Looking for Sugar Daddies and Big Hunks
Later, he would appear with a pillowcase bulging with candy. He would pour the sweet contents out on the living room floor and sort it according to his favorites. He usually had heaps of bubblegum cigars, jaw breakers, Tootsie Pops, Baby Ruth bars, candy cigarettes, Root Beer barrels, Hershey bars and Sugar Daddies, Necco Wafers, Sweetarts, Paydays, and Bit-oh-honey. It was his habit to toss the boring loot to us, the little kids.
We happily inherited the popcorn balls wrapped in wax paper, the apples, the Tootsie Pops, the licorice-flavored Black Jack gum and the candy cigarettes.
Happy Haunting, sweetie.
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