Madness.
It is the Sunday before the Sunday before the Sunday
before Halloween, am I right? AM I %^%^* RIGHT?
Joe and I get in the car. He wants to go to the zoo
today more than anything, so we get in the car. We get
in the car and we go to the zoo. It's 9-something in
the morning by the time we start, so there's no time
to stop and get a book on CD, because on Sundays the
library opens at noon.
And so all the way down is "are
we there yet?" And we stop to get a donut and Joe says
mine is better than his, which, OK, is true? But am I
supposed to tell a kid not to get jelly because it's
lame? He only likes Dunkin Donuts jelly, not Honey Dew jelly, and I got original glazed, which is Why We have Donuts, is original glazed.
And we get to the zoo and the lot is HUGELY FULL.
And everyone -- everyone -- walking into the zoo is in
a %^%^* costume. They are all wearing
%^%^* COSTUMES. And there I am, gobsmacked.
Flabbergasted. HOW IS ONE TO KNOW
THIS? WHAT IS IT, %^%^* HALLOWEEN MONTH?
It dawns on Joe, but slowly. Everyone is in a costume,
and he is not. He asks, seriously, if I have a
Halloween costume in the car. We talk. He cries, and
who can blame him? "I'll feel so left out," he says. I
offer to go to drugstore and get make-up to paint his
face scarily. I offer to get an old T-shirt out of the
trunk and cut it up -- if I can, as I have no scissors
-- and he can be a ghost.
If he wants to go home, I
say, I'll take him, and we'll find other things to do
to have fun.
Nope. We go in, and he cries, trying to be stoic. He
gets over it. We laugh: He could have been Doc Octopus
with my jumper cables, I laugh.
And then we run into his favorite interactive exhibit
-- the termite mound. It's been removed.
And the anteater, which we eventually reach -- a new
animal about which he is very excited. It's hiding.
Along with the binturong, also new.
And then we pass the trick-or-treat stations, where
children with costumes can get bags of candy that he
dislikes (lollipops, which he always wants to collect
one of but never wants to eat), and plastic squirt
bottles, and coloring pamphlets about electrical
safety, and CRAPPY little blisterpack toys of MODERN
DAY BATTLESTAR GALACTICA.
What the %^%^* is it about this country that we have to
do this %^%^*? FOR THE LOVE OF GOD DOES EVERY HOLIDAY HAVE TO BE
CO-OPTED?
Do we HAVE to do these things for the great competing membership drives? Can we not simply take children to the zoo and show them the animals in the world and discuss evolution or the miracle of creation or WHATEVER we want to find transcendent in the MOMENT OF BEING PRESENT IN THE VAST HETEROGENEITY AND DIVERSITY OF LIFE?
Halloween is about PUMPKINS and STUFF THAT LILLIAN VERNON SELLS and ALSO SPENCER'S. It is about SCARY and it is about OH GOD ANOTHER MOVIE WITH FREDDY. It is NOT ABOUT ANOTHER HUGE LONG TABLE FILLED WITH SQUIRT BOTTLES FROM THE LOCAL SAVINGS AND LOAN BANK. It is also AS NECESSARY about TOOTH-SMASHING CANDY BINGES but only ONE NIGHT'S WORTH.
Anyway. He had a nice time at the zoo. Mostly. I, on the other hand, had to be sedated. They had to pry me off the poison dart frog case and frankly I thought they could have waited for me to get my own tongue back in my mouth instead of using the Taser.
