The Great Pumpkin Pageant When Tricks Trumped Treats
Dear Uncle Bobby - Whatever happened to good old-fashioned trick-or-treating? My kids have spreadsheets for candy routes, the neighbors have “theme nights,” and the costumes look like they came from a movie set. When did Halloween become a full-blown production?
Haunted By Overplanning,
Sugar Rushed and Spirit Crushed
Oh, it’s a production all right — Broadway meets Black Friday with a hint of diabetes.
Halloween used to be simple. You grabbed a pillowcase, threw on a plastic mask that smelled like melted rubber, and hit the streets until your legs gave out. No one tracked your steps, and the only “allergy-friendly option” was don’t eat the weird stuff. But now? Oh no. Halloween has gone corporate.
Kids these days don’t just trick or treat — they campaign. There’s strategy. There’s logistics. Parents are mapping candy density with drone footage and group texts. We used to wander around half-lost in the dark with one flashlight between five kids — that was character building. Now they’re using GPS like they’re running a tactical operation code-named “Operation KitKat.”
And the costumes? Don’t even get me started. What happened to creativity? You used to make your costume out of whatever you had at home — cardboard, duct tape, and hope. You couldn’t see, breathe, or sit down, but you looked terrifying. Now? Every kid looks like they’ve got a Hollywood wardrobe budget. The six-year-old down the street just showed up as Iron Man with working hydraulics.
Meanwhile, mom and dad are out here in “family costumes,” forcing dad to be a sidekick. You got a 40-year-old man dressed as Luigi, just silently rethinking his life choices while his wife looks fantastic as Princess Peach.
And instead of trick-or-treating like warriors of the night, kids now do “trunk-or-treat” — walking around a church parking lot in broad daylight like they’re in a low-budget parade. Safe? Sure. Fun? Absolutely not. If your biggest Halloween fear is sunburn, you’re doing it wrong.
Let’s not even talk about the candy paranoia. We used to dump our haul on the floor, trade peanut butter cups like stockbrokers, and eat until our souls vibrated. Now every parent’s scanning candy bars like they’re decoding state secrets.
Listen — I’m not saying it was perfect back then. We had razor-blade rumors and flashlights that doubled as blunt weapons. But it was ours. It was chaos, freedom, and fun all rolled into one sugar-coated death march.
So yeah, call me nostalgic. But I miss when Halloween wasn’t about curated Instagram photos or $400 animatronics. I miss when it was about sugar, stupidity, and seeing if you could make it home before your parents realized you’d hit three neighborhoods instead of one.
Now if you’ll excuse me — I’ve got a bag of fun-size Snickers calling my name and a porch light to turn off.
– Uncle Bobby