Halloween.

One of the few acceptable times of the year when the young and unempowered are allowed to threaten the status quo of the world with their one and only weapon:  youth.

I mean, sure it’s adorable when little Spiderman shows up and whispers, “Twicker tweets.” That puffy, little, muscle costume makes it hard for him to waddle up and down the sidewalk. The shy ninjas, shrugging Darth Vader who you can almost see blushing under all that plastic, the lion who wants candy but also wants you to hear her roar.

Cute.

But I’m not fooled.

It’s also a subtle threat.

They’re saying, “Hey, seriously. We live in this neighborhood and although we’re only roughly 5 - 12 years old right now, we’ll be teenagers in a few years and you don’t want to be known as that dick house where the candy has sucked for the past ten years. We’ll remember. And we’ll have cars by then. So c’mon. Gimmie a Reeces peanut butter cup.”

It’s okay, though. It’s their night of the year. And they don’t run the world just yet.

But we do, and what is the world going to be like when we hand it over? How awesome is it going to be an adult then? Or will it hurt worse than it does today, in our adult world right now and the costumes we wear? Totally cliche, I grant you; I feel like I just groped Whitney Houston.

But it’s also kinda true.

These kids will inherit debt, an oil crisis that hasn’t even begun, and a whole generation of fucked up war vets, brave men and women who gave so freely of their lives in service. Just or unjust as you may believe the Iraq war to be, these American men and women gave all their hearts to this country because they were worried that the rest of us might not be able to go out at night in costume and laugh and play and not be arrested for expressing joy. This is their love for us.

And tonight some of their kids are out trick-or-treating.

I like to think of these kids as the future walking to my front door, a toothy fashion show of how we might turn out. Hulks. Heros. Vampires. Wonder Women. Princesses in ribbons who remember to laugh. Knights who are excited to joust the air between houses. I always think the pirate children are going to end up as artists, massage therapists, and midnight authors. They understand that pirates have many different looks, and you actually have to walk crooked to pull off that costume. They’re the bravest and grow up so uniquely wonderful, little pirate kids.

If I run out of M&Ms tonight (which honestly would make me sad because then what the hell am I going to munch on during Final Destination 3, waiting for Ann to arrive from Iowa? After she arrives, we’re going to order Chinese and then head out to a costume party. She called me on the road to let me know that she’s already dressed as Harry Potter and has been all day. Adults get to have joy too.)…

Anyway.

If I run out of M&Ms, Reeces cups, and Hershey bars, I’m going to give the Future Kids one of my favorites:  Almond Joys.

Yum.

And also a silent promise to try to be a better man and to try to make this world better.

I bet it’s going to be a hard world for you kids. I’m feeling some extra hope these days because of the upcoming regime change. We might just not go totally insane in this world after all. Obama may pull us back from the brink, this unconventional and wise king. So things might be better when you kids get to be buying mortgages and worrying about your investments. I hope so. I intend to make it so.

(Although honestly, I don’t own jack shit in investments so, you know, I sleep at night. I’m not THAT grown up.)

But for tonight, you’ll have to settle for Almond Joys, which honestly, I don’t understand why you Future Kids don’t like coconut. You will. It’s coming for you. One day you’ll suddenly like coconut and then go, “Oh hey. I think I might be an adult here.”

And in the intervening years before we shake hands, adult-to-adult, don’t soap my house or egg my garage. I’m not afraid to chase you down the alley, you little motherfuckers.

I’m not giving up on you yet.

I think we might make it.

The Pirate Kids will help us out.

Ooo - gotta go!

Future Kids are at the door demanding candy.

This entry was posted on Friday, October 31st, 2008 at 6:12 pm and is filed under Warrior. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.