I’ll never forget my first Halloween in New Orleans, because it was filled with shame.
I spent the night hiding at the back of my apartment, with the front lights off, dreading the little voices calling “trick or treat.”
I was new to town, I was much younger and I was blown away by how much fun Halloween was in New Orleans, which for a whole long weekend felt like one gigantic adult costume party.
And then the actual night of Halloween came around, and only then did I remember trick-or-treaters would be afoot. I had done nothing to prepare.
I vowed it would never happen again and have been going a bit overboard in the years since (yes, I'm the guy on the block with the stash of full-sized candy bars, the legend is real, come find me).
And now I’m here with a plea: Do whatever you want on this wonderful Halloween weekend, but make sure you do your part first. Have candy, be there for the trick-or-treaters, be there for your neighbors doing the same.
You’ll make memories, and you might even make your neighborhood a better place.
The spirit of Halloween is one kid, one house, one piece of candy and a line of memories made on one side of the transaction and rekindled on the other. Within that there is ritual and symbolism, and, I really believe, a chance for a greater social connection, something we feel in dire need of today.
Candy is the medium. In a holiday suspension of nutritional disbelief, a hunk of nougat covered in chocolate becomes an act of generosity and hospitality, maybe even unity.
Halloween is a family holiday, and it’s a social one too. Is there sometimes an ice chest for adults next to the candy bowl for kids? Maybe, maybe. Leave it to New Orleans to make trick-or-treating feel a little bit like tailgating.
But bottom line, Halloween can mean watching your neighborhood come together and participate in some make belief to make kids happy, a community effort where all other differences can at least temporarily vanish, like a ghost.
You just need to show up. And you've got to have candy.
