Adult Halloween Is Stupid, Embarrassing, and Very Important
When I was a kid, fun felt really fun. Reading a book was completely immersive; chasing the dog around the yard was transcendent; running a fake restaurant with rocks as potatoes was the honor of a lifetime. The absolute peak, though, was Halloween. I can still recall bounding down the sidewalk in the cool October air, chuffed to be up late, drunk on the maniacal power that comes from knocking on strangers’ doors and demanding candy.
It’s not that, as an adult, I don’t do anything that could be. My little neighborhood stroll is . Standing around at a party and shouting over music to catch up with acquaintances is … . I just no longer experience the deep, whimsical joy that a rock potato could once bring. Still, I believe in chasing the ghost of my former lighthearted self. And if there’s one day when I might almost catch up, it’s Halloween: the most ridiculous, inherently childish holiday, and perhaps the one grown-ups need most.
