It’s been several years since I last wore a costume on Halloween, and it has been even longer since I’ve carved a pumpkin. Like most holidays, Halloween has gradually changed for me as I’ve grown older.
But even if my enthusiasm has waned during the years, this particular Halloween will likely be one I won’t soon forget.
My first Halloweens were a time to get dressed up and score some candy. Then during adolescence and even the teenage years, it was about going out to smash pumpkins, throw eggs and cause other general mischief. Now that I’m in college, the Halloween night is usually spent drinking and partying, with some occasional mischief.
I don’t look forward to Halloween like I used to either. The privilege of staying out late at night doesn’t hold the same appeal as it did when I was younger. Now that I’m almost 22, Halloween is starting to feel like just another Friday night.
Except this Halloween. This one feels much different. All the others have gone by in a consistent pattern that has slowly evolved as I have grown. But now with a little more than a year left in my college experience, I’m struck with the fact that the next Halloween will be a new experience altogether. I wonder what I’ll do then, when I’m out of Eugene and hopefully gainfully employed. I’ll bet I probably won’t be smashing many pumpkins.
Added to that is a prevalent sense of dread that has descended on everything these days. Perhaps “dread” is too strong of word, but as we move forward with our war against terrorism, we have some real things to be afraid of this Halloween. Anthrax, suicide bombings and maybe World War III are all things that I and the rest of this generation are going to have to deal with now and likely for some time in the future. It seems even more superficial to get drunk and wild when American servicemen are risking their lives to defend our national security — and when the threat of determined, concentrated anthrax attacks could likely hit a major subway system or large shopping mall in this country sometime soon.
But we in Eugene, myself included, will probably all do some sort of partying tonight. We have the luxury of being young and considerably removed from the probable horrors and to forget them for a night of ghoulish revelry. At times it seems ridiculously unfair that here on the West Coast, in the state of Oregon and the city of Eugene, we can distance ourselves from a national tragedy. But then it also seems like a great privilege as well.
As we go out tonight to fight the Eugene Police Department’s totalitarian “Party Patrol,” cram into the campus bars and maybe even see who can hurl a pumpkin the farthest, we should remember all those who don’t have much reason to party and know that in the coming months there will likely be fewer reasons.
Following years of Halloweens that grew to mean less and less to me, the holiday has finally gained some meaning. Part of me wishes that it hadn’t and that this could be just like all the others.