Sort of Halloween
Something kind of bothers me about what has happened to the world since I was a child, and for once it has nothing to do with the lack of Saturday morning cartoons. It seems strange that at some point it in the past it became commonplace for people to declare the weekend before Halloween to be the holiday proper, as if that would be safer for the world at large or a better use of our time. Let me tell you: nothing is a better use of our time than eating candy that strangers give us out of a sense of obligation.
The point of this entire tirade is Veronica and I went to an event called “Troy Night Out” the Friday before Halloween, which I guess in most people’s book close enough to warrant a reason to dress up and pretend that they are zombies. During this the main event was a mass amount of people gathering and dancing, in their terrible zombie makeup, to Michael Jackson’s Thriller. I myself would have dressed up as someone that cared, but I didn’t want to put in clearly five times the effort that anyone else who went did.
Veronica and I managed to miss the entire dance routine, but managed to be informed by friends that saw it that all we missed was a bunch of confused people in white face, with what looked like tomato sauce stained clothes, walking around confused while the song played. Seeing as how most people who attended knew that this was happening for over a month I was impressed that most of them even managed to show up. For the most part I am not a fan of these huge zombie gathering things, mainly because for me it is like asking someone to dress up like a deer and walk into the words—it doesn’t matter how bad the costume is, you are at fault if someone shoots you.
I will say that I wandered in to the area where Thriller took place, after it happened because there was still music blasting out of the building, and was surprised by how much it ended up looking like every eighth grade dance that I ever went to only with more out of place adults and smoke machines. No one there looked like they were having a good time, accept for those who were clearly trying to prove a point or took way too much of whatever medication they had readily available. It was clear that they had paid the DJ to be there all night, but they also must not have given him enough to either care or use effort as it just kind of looked like depression felt.
The reason that we went, though, was for the live music and interesting shops that decided to stay open really late for the event. I am told that many of them had some kind of slight sales going on, but that didn’t seem to be the case in any of the store that we went into that were selling both class and pretention. One place was even selling candied apples for 9 dollars an apple; considering how much they normally hurt my teeth and are also apples is about a dentist bill and eating an apple away from cost effective.
Truth be told we bought two of the apples. Also, it was the best caramel apple thing I have ever had, but it was also covered in butterfingers and had handmade coating and stuff on it. I will not go so far as to say that the entire experience was worth more than I paid for dinner that night, but it was one of those interesting desserts that I will never pay for again.
The live music, for its part, seemed more like a group that had escaped a mental institution and robbed a music store than a band. It wasn’t that any of it was bad, but there was neither rhyme nor reason to any of it. It seemed like some of them were on top of each other playing different songs while others were just out in the middle of nowhere playing for what seemed to be trees and frog statues. Needless to say it seemed like Veronica fit in during the event.