Wednesday, November 01, 2023

Trading

 Early Tuesday evening, a little before sundown, our living quarters were transformed by the arrival of some 20 young girls dressed as cats, witches, rock stars, cows (cows?) and various characters from movies I’ve not seen into a place of restrained joy and anticipation.

(There also was a lone little guy named Jonathan, dressed as a skeleton. He was decidedly not scary).

A dozen or so parents gathered in an adjacent room, huddling around snacks and a steaming pot of spiced cider.

All of a sudden, as if by some secret code, they all vanished into the night, leaving the front door open and me all alone. Come to think of it, that was probably their cue — sunset.

After an indeterminate period of utter silence, they all returned, bearing huge caches of wrapped candies (all the usual suspects).

This time, the kids clustered in the living room, dumped their bonanzas out in front of them and the bartering began.

It was a scene right out of the trader’s floor on Wall Street, only this time it was a black cat with face painted whiskers and a pink nose trading a Sour Patch Kid for a Twizzler from a very pretty cow.

As the sole adult witness to this cinematic-worthy wonder (the parents had retreated to the back yard and more cider), I marveled at the order and chaos and the general sense of good will involved.

Even stalwart Jonathan, who’s roughly half the size of the taller girls, got involved in what was definitely a wealth-sharing and wealth-redistribution scheme.

Some kids got up and navigated the crowded space, somehow avoiding stepping on each other or the candy to hand deliver or pick up prized exchanges, ignoring me sitting in the chair by the front window.

It was like watching the crowd at any Tokyo subway station, i.e., everyone in motion but nobody bumping into each other. Or perhaps backstage at a Taylor Swift concert with screaming fans jumping up and down and Jonathan as the hapless doorman.

At some point I exited this remarkable gathering and joined the other adults outside. Most of them are in their 40s, in the dynamic middle of their lives, pursuing careers, raising kids, redecorating bathrooms, buying EVs, and so on. A bunch of the guys I recognize as fellow managers in our local fantasy basketball league.

We compared Halloweens from our childhoods (theirs in the 1980s, mine in the 1950s) with today’s version and we all agreed that this system of gathering together afterward and trading candy is a new feature — one we do not recall from our day as Trick or Treaters.

So afterward I searched the topic and discovered a partial explanation from an Atlantic article in 2019: How Many Tootsie Rolls Is a Snickers Worth? Kids Know.

Thus eschewing the news, which is all terrible anyway, I’ve selected this as today’s top story.

Oh and BTW at the end of the evening, as he left to go home with his mom, Jonathan flashed me a knowing smile and said, “Happy Halloween!”

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