My family moved from Freeport, Illinois to Byron in 1974, into a green A frame house my uncle Wesley had built on a dirt road curiously named Devil’s Lane. In my memory there really was freezing rain that Halloween and I really was dressed in a Batman costume we bought at Ben Franklin store and I really did ask my mother how the telephone wires carried all those voices. As I suspect happened every year there were rumors of razor blades in the apples and a machete toting maniac named Rex was supposed to be terrorizing the neighborhood, but none of that stopped me and my brother, dressed as Robin, from soldiering out and trying our best to fill our pillowcases with confectionary gold. It was our earliest introduction to anything that resembled a transfer of wealth, aside from whatever quarters magically appeared from our ears while visiting an odd uncle or two. That is why this Tiny Drawing poem me and Jenny made is one of my favorites.
Halloween 2012 was much different. Aside from the warnings of some nut tampering with the candy. It was cold. I always remember it was cold. For the first time in my adult life I got into costume and went to Kryptonite with Jenny to watch Jesus Correa’s band King of the Demons play.