BY Alicia CruzEditor-in-Chief
Theblackurbantimes
Picture it: Halloween, 1970-something, Patterson Projects in the South Bronx...
Halloween in the 'hood can be tough, mi gentes. I know better than anybody else how tough times are with the recession and all, but we can save a dollar or two and purchase real Halloween treats from the $.99 store or the dollar tree versus pulling fruit, food and household objects from our apartments.
Handing out alcapurrias, tortillas or anything similar is about as ghetto and cheesy as one can get for Halloween and yet many do it.
Using a bedsheets or curtains for costumes or substituting a pillowcase, Wal-mart plastic bag or Hefty garbage bag to hold your goodies = ghetto. Don't do it.
The recession will likely make trick or treating this year a task. Some neighborhoods may be tougher than others especially in the projects where I grew up at.
Handing out alcapurrias, tortillas or anything similar is about as ghetto and cheesy as one can get for Halloween and yet many do it.
Using a bedsheets or curtains for costumes or substituting a pillowcase, Wal-mart plastic bag or Hefty garbage bag to hold your goodies = ghetto. Don't do it.
The recession will likely make trick or treating this year a task. Some neighborhoods may be tougher than others especially in the projects where I grew up at.
That first recession back in the 70's made one Halloween Hell. I got home from trick or treating and I dumped my pillowcase (yeah, I know, tacky) out to work on my Halloween loot and I found Carrots, Papas (Potatoes), Fried Chicken wings wrapped in aluminum foil, a travel set of toothpaste, floss and a small toothbrush that said "Motel 6" on it; a mango, some old Kenepas, a salmon cake in foil, platanos, and even a Colt 45 beer.
That was the worst f***ing Halloween ever.
Mami, being a believer of, "When Halloween brings you carrots and papas, use 'em to make dinner" used them to make Arroz con pollo for dinner and she drank the beer after I went to bed. Damn shame.
I think that was the same year I had that Wonder Woman costume. You know, the ones you'd get from the C-Town Mercado on Third Avenue; the ones that were way too long (I was a midget back then) and made that scratching noise as it dragged along the ground while you walked. And they had that cheesy rubber band that was so small it mushed the skin under your chin, remember?
Yeah, I had a pillow case one year,but the class act Mami is, she sewed some lace around the edges and decorated it with orange and black glitter and hooked me up! I was the only kid on my block with a classy, odd trick or treat bag fashioned out of a pillowcase.
My brothers would walk me to the different floors in the building to rack up. I always liked going to Mrs. Pearl's apartment because she gave out the best goodies and Ms. Jenkins, well she gave money. Ca-ching!
I hated those candy corn, black licorice and Brachs, the ghetto version of Baruch candy.
Gross!
I made a mental note of who gave those suckers out and made sure I "forgot" to knock on their doors. Although I knew good and well that the Jehovah's Witness families wouldn't bother answering their doors, I knocked anyway. Hey, you never know, right?
And this one Halloween, me and my best friend went trick or treating at the brownstones near the Mott Haven projects.
And this one Halloween, me and my best friend went trick or treating at the brownstones near the Mott Haven projects.
We knew we'd get the tar kicked out of us if our Mothers found out we went that far, but we thought we'd hit the candy jackpot so the ass-whipping would be worth it.
We didn't hit the candy jackpot but we did get the friggin' scare of our life.
We arrived at the first Brownstone and rang the doorbell. We got no answer. We could see a guy inside, but he wasn't answering...and we weren't leaving.
We didn't hit the candy jackpot but we did get the friggin' scare of our life.
We arrived at the first Brownstone and rang the doorbell. We got no answer. We could see a guy inside, but he wasn't answering...and we weren't leaving.
Hell, we didn't risk an extension cord beat-down and walk 7 blocks in those plastic monstrosities for nothing!
Finally, our persistence paid off. The guy inside stopped what he was doing and answered the door in his "Halloween costume:" a ski mask and black ensemble. "Cool," we thought, "The person at this house dressed up to hand out candy!"
Wrong!
As "ski-mask" was filling our bags up with fruit, cookies, sticks of Wrigley's chewing gum, sunflower seeds and tasty cakes, we heard tires screeching behind us. It was the police. Apparently, "ski-mask" wasn't the renter. He was a snot-nosed punk robbing the place blind. Friggin' shame.
We were shell shocked and ticked off because the police made us give up all the goodies the punk had taken from the people's kitchen to fill up our goody bags with.
Finally, our persistence paid off. The guy inside stopped what he was doing and answered the door in his "Halloween costume:" a ski mask and black ensemble. "Cool," we thought, "The person at this house dressed up to hand out candy!"
Wrong!
As "ski-mask" was filling our bags up with fruit, cookies, sticks of Wrigley's chewing gum, sunflower seeds and tasty cakes, we heard tires screeching behind us. It was the police. Apparently, "ski-mask" wasn't the renter. He was a snot-nosed punk robbing the place blind. Friggin' shame.
We were shell shocked and ticked off because the police made us give up all the goodies the punk had taken from the people's kitchen to fill up our goody bags with.
Talk about trick or treat, huh?
Anyway, to add to the insult, when I got home and told Mami and daddy what happened, my mother slapped the Hell out of me for being somewhere I shouldn't have been in the first place and for "putting my 'hard-headed butt' in a bad position."
*sigh*
I wish each of you trick or treater's a more lucrative and less traumatizing Halloween adventure than mine were.
Anyway, to add to the insult, when I got home and told Mami and daddy what happened, my mother slapped the Hell out of me for being somewhere I shouldn't have been in the first place and for "putting my 'hard-headed butt' in a bad position."
*sigh*
I wish each of you trick or treater's a more lucrative and less traumatizing Halloween adventure than mine were.
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