In Jefferson — my fair city — trick-or-treating on Halloween has been replaced by a staged event on the downtown square: the Jefferson Halloween Walk.
Frankly, I think it’s an example of parental paranoia — the fear that every October 31st, malevolent forces muster their… uh… malevolence and lay in wait, ready to pounce on innocent children who go out trick-or-treating.
Never mind that the popular stories — razor blades in apples, etc. — are total malarkey. Never mind that statistically, Halloween is the safest night of the year for kids. People have to stoke that paranoia. It’s comforting.
But, paranoid or not, the Halloween Walk is a fun event. The local merchants, schools, and civic organizations set up tables along the downtown sidewalks. Kids in costume, along with parents and grandparents, queue up by the hundreds, slowly trudging single file past the tables to collect their ration of candy.
It’s a more or less one-way procession that snakes several blocks around the center of town and back, maybe a half-mile in total. Jefferson cops are stationed at the intersections to stop traffic as needed. It’s a fascinating study in controlled chaos.
This year’s Halloween Walk was last Friday from 4:00 PM until 6:00 PM. Leslie, my daughter-in-law, got a tip that if you start at 4:00 PM, you can make the loop in 20 minutes; if you wait, you’ll be in line for an hour or more.
Accordingly, she was highly motivated to leave work early, get Maddie and Sarah into their costumes, and arrive downtown no later than 3:50 PM.
Naturally, half the population of Jefferson had the same idea.
This year, Maddie and Sarah were dressed as Valley Girls. When I caught up with them on the square, I nagged them into posing for a few quick photos. After that, all I got was the backs of heads.
Maddie, the six-year-old, was her usual ebullient self.
Sarah, age three, was uncharacteristically subdued.
“Too many Cheetos,” Leslie explained. “Both of them have been partying and snacking all day at school. Sarah overdid it on the Cheetos. She doesn’t feel too good.”
I knelt down and put a sympathetic hand on Sarah’s shoulder. “Feeling bad, sweetie?” I asked.
“My tummy hurts,” she said.
“I hear you ate too many Cheetos,” I said.
She looked at me earnestly. “No, the last Cheeto didn’t go all the way down,” she said. “I can feel the corner of it poking me in the stomach.”
I told her that happens to me sometimes, too.
“When I get home, I’m going to eat a lot of candy,” she told us. “That will push the Cheeto the rest of the way down.”
You can’t argue with logic like that, but I tried anyway.
“Better to drink water instead,” I told her. “Water will push the Cheeto down faster.”
“Yeah, Sarah,” said Rick, her other grandfather. “Water, not candy. Candy will make you feel worse, girl.”
Sarah gave us both a withering look.
I placed my hand on her tummy. “Hey, I think I feel the Cheeto, right there,” I said.
Sarah sucked on her blue lollipop, looked up at to her mom, and implored, “Can we go hooome?”

The Four Columns ladies gave you a Snickers bar and a coupon for $2.00 off.

The more or less one-way procession.

Valley Girls, Jefferson style.
Cute Valley Girl idea.
O, the irony of a photo on a candy-centric holiday taken in front of a dental office.
The Valley Girl thing probably came from thinking about their sophisticated older cousins in California.