The Funny Side of Halloween

There's been a lot of drama centered around Halloween in the past week. Allow me to share...

• This year, as in all others, Americans get the opportunity to view "It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown." Did anyone miss something in their childhood about a great pumpkin arriving in a pumpkin patch on Halloween? My hand is raised. Anywho, Husband gets absolutely, totally and mercilessly pissed off at this show. Yet predictably, he's glued to the special in disgust year after year. It's comedy to watch him.
  
• At the office, we were exposed to the quandry of whether or not--or how--to celebrate Halloween. With several who either consider the holiday a devil celebration or who do not celebrate any holiday for religious reasons, the risk of offending was sad and certain. After a week-long hilarious debate, we ended up with a grouping of jolly folks eating eye ball-style deviled eggs and spinach dip from a bread coffin located in an isolated room.
  
• Finally, the group of teenagers who play in a garage band a few doors down have carried their instruments to the curb. Evidently, they plan to entertain trick-or-treaters with the same song they have played over and over again every Saturday for the past three months. This should be interesting--although it strikes out my plan to sit out in the cool air and greet the kids before they ring the doorbell.

The night is young. Who knows what lies ahead...

The Great Magazine Identity Theft

A few tiny red flags go up in my house when we start receiving more than 6 new magazine subscriptions within three days...none of which we have actually subscribed to.

My brother & sis-in-law kindly get us Smithsonian, National Geographic for Kids, and Shallow Water Angler every year for Christmas, and I was warned about a month ago that the company may have screwed things up.

But a month ago can be a very long time you know, and I frankly didn't remember that whole conversation. So last night, I sat down with said influx of new magazines and began calling their subscription departments.


Q: "Um, I'm now receiving your magazine and I didn't buy this. What's going on here?"
A: "Well, the magazine was purchased in September and right after, the subscription was changed to someone else's name and address."


Of course after calling magazine office after magazine office to hear the same answer to my panicked question...and being given the name of the same bogus-sounding company that was the conduit for the subscription purchases...I began to sweat, swear and wrangle husband into the entire maddening affair.

I immediately feel the flames of danger as the Identity Theft Gods sent a feverish panic to my mind. After all, I have listened to several (not one, not two, but three) separate presentations on identity theft at work lately. According to what I'd heard, a common scenario is for people to steal your card number, buy something in your name (with your billing address) and immediately transfer the goods or service to their address. Most of the time, this all goes down before the innocent victim even knows.

I was already calculating how difficult it was going to be to clear my name and the other unknown purchases that were probably made. After a brief moment of calmness, I remembered the little conversation with sis-in-law from a month ago and left a voice mail for her with an emergency message.

Turns out, she'd purchased 14 different subscriptions from a Girl Scout mom in her office, and the benevolent company decided that my household needed all of them instead of spreading the love to the intended recipients. After realizing the error, it apparently started cancelling subscriptions to us and sending them to the right people...or at least we hope.

As she listened to me trying to talk through all this, my sis-in-law was getting really quiet--an obvious precurser to some serious rage. (Don't confront someone who's getting ready to move to Texas.) I'm pretty confident she's going to rip the company a new ass. Too bad they already have her dinero.

As for me, I've got tons of reading material and will enjoy my first and only edition of Self, Outdoor World, National Wildlife Federation, Field and Stream and the myriad of other magazines I have for the month.

Drums, Girls & Dangerous Pie

Gropius normally doesn't post book reviews, much less reviews of 6th grade Scholastic Books. But I have to tell you: get your hands on Girls, Drums & Dangerous Pie and spend one weekend day reading that puppy. If you have kids in your life, have them read it or read it to them.

Every sixth grader in Sarasota County is being equipped with it, and our staff at work was strongly encouraged to read it as well (since we are providing the funds for the giveaway).

It's about an eighth grader stuck in the midst of obsession over outward appearances, girls, social order and an annoying younger brother. When his brother is diagnosed with leukemia, everything changes. But this is not a pity party story. I laughed. I cried. I felt the pangs of injustice, the irritation of an unforeseen circumstance changing the comfort of normalcy, and most of all, I felt incredible inspiration of the "everyday hero" variety. It reminded me that sometimes we do have to completely change our lives for people we care about, and the "inconvenience" of having to make those choices is far more important than the consequences of plowing ahead, unconsious.

I'm always re-surprised to realize that us adults often need the messages we give to kids with that knowing language...even more than 6th graders need them. Go get the book and read it. Tell the book store Gropius sent you.

The Halloween "Edge"

Is it just me, or are you finding it a little harder to get in the Halloween spirit this year?

Three things out of the ordinary for our fam this year:

1. I decided to forgo one of the charming (yet dwindling) local pumpkin patches and buy a stem-rotted pumpkin from Lowes. It wasn't a move I fretted about later, either. It was easy and it got the job done.

2. I struggled finding the momentum to haul down the Halloween decorations from the attic. When they came down, I didn't pull my usual stunt of going out to buy more.

3. We didn't even discuss having our regular Halloween party. And Halloween is on a Friday night this year. A little girl from down the street (who is perpetually walking around any time of year with a candy bar or chips in her mouth) has asked me repeatedly if we're having the party. For the millionth time: "NO!"

What's the deal? I can't figure it out, but we're just not into it this year. Maybe it's because the young one isn't so young anymore...and he wants to dress up as a girl. (Something I'm cool with but Husband is a little leary of.) Or it could be the fact that we're all scared enough by the economy. We're facing enough blood-sucking ghouls for real with the headlines every day.

We did send out Halloween cards to a few folks we don't get to see very often. A gesture which Husband freaked out about. "WHAT? Christmas cards once a year are one thing...now I have to sign HALLOWEEN cards?" A comment which solicited the quick command, "Yes. Sign them!"

Although the deed was done and the cards were mailed, it still didn't get us in the spooking mood. Are you?

Fall Lettuce Is Comin' Up

Should I complain that you can't grow any tomato but an anemic tomato here in Florida? Or that the brutal heat of the summer kills any vegetable that makes an attempt to push itself out of the soil? No, I shouldn't.

Husband's newly planted Fall garden is coming up. And although it took a hell of a lot of horse poop and soil, it's organic as all get out and the fruits of his labor are coming to life. Today I took my first bite of lettuce on my FBLT (fake bacon, lettuce & tomato sandwich). It was green, good and I knew there was no trace of pesticide on it.

At a time when so few folks even know where their food comes from, I'm proud of his little plot of food-producing dirt. (Although it's funny when you see a few bean plants coming up. What the hell are we going to do with 3 beans?)

Husband tells me that we could be the only people in America eating soon, because our economy is on the brink of collapse and no one knows anything about how to actually grow food anymore. If Publix ceases to exist one day, come on over to the backyard garden. Husband may fight you off with a shovel, but I'll lobby for a carrot or two for you...if they come up this year. (Sorry, photo was taken during last year's garden. And by the way, he asked me to tell you, and I quote: "Those carrots were supposed to be small.")

Pungent Products 2

Today, for the first time in a long while, I cleaned my desk at work. I went to grab the Clorox Disinfecting Wipes and accidentally dumped out what seemed like a quart of disinfecting juice from the one-wipe-left container.

It landed right in the croch and all down the left pant leg, creating a very realistic impression of a bladder control issue. After reviving from the "pee in your pants" look, I realized that I had assumed a very pungent odor.

The fact that I was wearing an ample level of disinfectant capable of killing cold & flu viruses didn't do much for me. I'm already sick.

Thanks for nothing, Clorox. Oh well, at least the pants aren't bleached. As for my desk...now I can't find anything.

Pungent Products

I love going to Bath & Body Works every couple of months to stock up on lotions, body wash, anti-bacterial stuff and other things I don't really need. (It reminds me of a very funny commentary I read in Uncommon Blonde's blog a few weeks back.)

But next time I go to B&BW, I'm going to be a little more careful about sniffing before I buy. You see, the Cucumber Melon foaming anti-bacterial waterless hand sanitizer has gone too far. For months I've been trying to stay the course and use up the small bottle I have in my car, but that time has ended. And there's still product left in the bottle.

Every time I squirt it out after touching a gas pump, change from a drive-through or a Kleenex, it nearly knocks me out. I've had multiple riders who are repelled almost to the point of nausea at its overwhelming odor. And if I use even a dime-sized amount, rest assured I will reek of it for the rest of the day, even after multiple scalding hand washings (yes, with actual soap and water).

Frankly, if someone was coming at me I wouldn't need pepper spray. One small squirt of the Cucumber Melon would render them helpless. So beware, all would-be attackers and smelly shoppers: this product needs to get pulled from the market.