I’m crazy about Halloween. Every year, I dress up, I perch myself on the front porch with a stack of processed sugar, and I wait for the crowds to descend. This year didn’t disappoint. There were witches and wizards, an entire zoo of furry creatures, things with wings and things with fangs. One kid even made herself into a pink Cadillac and toted around a bulky, cumbersome contraption with sincere commitment and dedication. Parents showed up as Captain Jack Sparrow, hockey heroes and other colourful characters.
Stuck in amongst the crowds were a handful of pint-sized pimps. Yup, boys too young to stay alone at home were dressed up in full pimp get-up, complete with purple fur jackets, feathered hats and platform shoes. One of them, ironically, was tailed by his little sister, who was dressed as a princess and sporting as much pink tulle and rhinestones as her little frame could carry. Trick or treat took on a different meaning.
It’s old-fashioned, I know, but I always saw Halloween as an opportunity to indulge in a bit of wish fulfillment. It was an occasion on which the phrase “I’ve always wondered what it might be like to be a…” was taken seriously. Over the years, I’ve tried on gypsy, punk rocker, rabbit, wizard, cupid, Captain Hook, fairy, pumpkin, and this year, Rosie the Riveter. I never really counted on “I’ve always wondered what it might be like to participate in the sex trade” being part of the dialogue. I didn’t realize there were parents comfortable with the idea of their sons becoming involved in the selling of other humans.
The whole notion of “monster” is being redefined. Creatures oozing pus and sporting six-inch claws are so passé. No one trembles at the idea of things that go bump in the night. The most terrifying entities by far are the ones that turn up on the news, and on dark street corners.
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