I have no idea how to market retail products nor do I pretend to. I am, however, a gullible consumer so most of this article is a tip of the hat to the box designer(s) of World Market’s Monster Soda Pack. They got me and next time I will take the three seconds to look at the package before forking over thirteen clams for NORMAL soda. But at least I have a pretty sweet box to show for it.
I must have been in a fog of pre-Halloween glee because when I saw this variety pack there was no question whether this was coming home with me. Had I known this was just a fancy box with random everyday soda, I probably would have passed and bought a dozen Halloween cards with fat cats posing in costumes while having Tootsie Roll indigestion.
Fool me once, shame on me. Fool me twice? I’m a duck.
Everything about this soda variety pack feels right from first glance. It is covered in 1978 Halloween goodness keeping every vintage art in tact and represented. An orange sky and witches make nights during the harvest so much richer. I have fond memories of 1983 Kmarts with just this tone of orange.
There is no question that these four sodas are about as Halloween-like as my Aunt Rose. (In her later years she thought Halloween involved fireworks and oranges) There is also not a question that these four brand sodas are the most common in the World Market selection so it leads one to believe that by disguising them in a Halloween box, they can recoup some overstock. But, if you think about it, isn’t that what Halloween is all about? They are just wearing a Halloween costume and I was tricked into buying a treat! I am an eternal optimist and a sucker for writing like an uncreative third grade home-school teacher.
Luckily for me most defeat can be soothed by liquor. So what that these sodas don’t have names like “Linda Blair Lemon/Lime” or “RedRum Rootbeer” and they are just everyday brands with questionable expiration dates? The box brought a bit of nostalgic happiness and I would not normally buy strawberry soda. Actually, I don’t think I have ever bought strawberry soda.
Okay, one more complaint. The handles to Box Awesome are not awesome. In fact they caused a scene in the parking lot but luckily for me the Earth rotates only so fast and the moon is only so close because any closer of faster, I would be the owner of a wet Box Awesome, filled with glass shards.
That was a gravity joke.
BONUS!
I just downloaded my most favorite free app for the iPhone and iPad. Zoomvision’s Night of the Living Dead app has me so happy I might just super lunge to the beat of “I Love A Rainy Night” by Eddie Rabbitt.
It’s the whole movie and it takes up virtually no space. How that works, you tell me. But it’s fun to sit in a waiting room or before a board meeting and watch Barber’s older brother taunt her before getting his head smashed by a zombie. Just a bit of horror to break up an otherwise dull day.
This story is a testament to how much simpler life was back when I was a kid. I had almost completely forgotten about this story until recently when I was talking to Kristen and low and behold, it just popped in there! The brain never ceases to amaze me because this memory has been stored for over twenty years only to randomly fallout like a picture used as a bookmark falling from a Garfield comic. (Because we all have read these in the 80’s) It comes at a good time too because this blog was turning into rubbish with mindless beer reviews and beef jerky. That’s no way to go through life, son.
Saturday nights for a certain period of my life were a special time. For whatever reason, from 7:00 to let’s say 10 or 11:00, my parents hosted a few couples from church for a bible discussion party. Well, I assume that’s what it was though I can’t be sure because my evenings were far better, which you will find out soon. After their bible yap, everyone would mingle and share the desserts each couple brought. I was allowed downstairs for that. Until then I was confined to the parents room with the TV, books of sharks, and whatever else a young seven-year old needed to pass the time. But at 9:00 my attention was devoted to a very special program that sometimes proved to be regretful whether it was later on at night from fears of what lurks under the bed or….well…keep reading.
I didn’t have cable until high school so with five channels (not including PBS because that was like watching school) and four channels on the smaller rotating dial, the selection was limited. But on Saturday nights there was quite the programing on Atlanta 46! The most memorable, of course, was “Tales From the Darkside”. For those not familiar, get out. I kid! I kid! It was a thirty minute program that featured two stories of macabre and strange tales usually starring some middle of the road actor from the time. Not all the shows were great but to a seven-year old, each one was a masterpiece.
One fateful Saturday afternoon my Dad informed me that a couple would be bringing their kids to the bible party and I would have to share my Saturday night of B-rated TV. While I was a little disappointed because as an only child I am a spoiled little dick, I had no say in the matter and began looking for the bright side. I mean, it could be fun.
It wasn’t at all. I knew it the second they arrived as I watched them pull into the driveway. These kids were melvins who brought their own pillows. They brought their own pillows for Christ sake! I sighed and walked limp-armed back to the parents room across the hall, head hung low and waited to hear people walk up the stairs. But instead Mom called for me to greet the un-welcomed guests and walk them to my Saturday sanctuary where no parental guidance was required.
I must have look like a pill giving a limp handshake to…Whats-his-face (let’s call him Jimmy for lack of memory) and his little sister, Rebecca.
Rebecca would be a problem for me.
With their idiotic board games and pillows in hand, we trudged upstairs to ruin my night. I offered to leave them in my room to do their will upon my collection of GI Joe and Legos, but that only appealed to Jimmy; the one kid I thought wouldn’t mind a night of twisted tales of grown up gore. Rebecca was stuck to my side like a rock in tire tread. Looking back as an adult it was pretty cute but to a kid that waited all week to hear the intro to “Tales From The Darkside”, it was an un-welcomed advance and there was no way to give these home schooled kids the slip.
Throughout the evening I tried to be entertaining and cordial. Jimmy wasn’t too bad, partly because he had Castle Greyskull to play house with and could care less about the world around him. Rebecca, however, sat hip-to-hip with me on the floor, eyes fixed on the TV as we watched “Small Wonder” and I nervously counted down the program schedule until “Tales From The Darkside” aired. Only one more “feel-good” show to go!
Dad brought us popcorn and cokes and asked if I was being a good host to which I responded “yeahyeah” without breaking gaze from the TV. He left to rejoin the adults and I could hardly wait because now was the time I had waited for patiently and even though I had to share this moment with these two weirdos, it was happening.
The intro alone distracted Jimmy from battling the forces of Cobra as he joined his sister and me on the floor, soon to witness the macabre and scary tales this glorious show had to offer. And brother, this one was a doozy! It was the first episode and pilot for the show that George Romero himself wrote and produced. The episode was called “Trick or Treat” and had demons, witches, pirate zombies and Satan himself all wrapped into a half an hour. Let’s break it down, shall we?
After the magical introduction we begin the story with a typical Scrooge-like character, Mr. Haggles, played by Bernard Hughes (one of my all time favorite actors). He is having his books balanced by a couple of accountants and we begin to learn what a cheap miser he really is, charging one of them .04 cents for another cup of coffee. But we also learn he has a twisted side too as he scares the two accountants into a bowel evacuation by an animatronic…thing that he uses on children during his favorite “SEASON”, Halloween.
It’s Willy from Alf!!!
That’s right. Mr. Haggles says what I have always believe and that is Halloween is a season, not a day. Anyway, he goes on to explain how every year he tempts the children in the valley to find the IOU’s of their parents that he holds liens on, hidden somewhere in his house, and if they find them all debt is forgiven. But no one ever has because of the terrifying tricks he has set up around his home.
We see during the afternoon of Halloween the bind he has on the parents as they are so deep in debt to Mr. Haggles that they even have to buy costumes for their children on credit in his general store. He taunts them into sending their children to the Hell house with the chance to have their debts forgiven.
Much like Romero’s style, there is a deep cultural issue hidden behind a cheeky horror story. We see how desperate people in financial distress can be and in some cases, putting their children in harm’s way to get out of their situation. I’m not going as far as saying prostitution but…kind of?
Oh Jimmy, find the IOU’s and get those much need braces or don’t find them and get a beating. The odds aren’t good since Mr. Haggles has a house full of spooky sounds and animatronic ghoulish surprises in store. Jimmy comes close but just couldn’t take the torture of Mr. Haggle’s taunts.
As Jimmy runs out of the house his father picks him up in a nurturing way and walks home defeated. Mr. Haggles laughs at the terrified kid but there is a moment when he has his bubble burst when Mr. Muldoon isn’t angry but rather a caring father. You can almost hear Mr. Haggles sigh a “humbug”. Who is next?
Another potential victim rings his doorbell and from his Wizard of Oz type control room, he looks to see who it is. Another kid? A parent coming to whoop an old man’s ass? Not quite!
In every story when a greedy person meets their fate, there seems to always be this third-party who’s entire being is for punishing the sinner. By far, this is my favorite punishment. He looks into the peephole only to see one of the scariest witches as she cackles a “trick or treat”. He opens the door to shoo away this prankster only to come to the realization that this is a real witch. She flies through the house on her broom and magically finds the hidden IOU’s and blows them in his face. Frantically, Mr. Haggles jumps to catch them all completely overlooking that he HAS A FUCKING WITCH IN HIS DEN and runs through the house shouting “my money!”.
In each room he is met with these type of creatures, who are not animatronic, but real and all over his cash. He is in disbelief that a pirate-zombie is sitting on his check deposits and scurries to salvage the flying cash. Which leads him to….
Ah, Satan himself. The Devil reverses the taunting and repeats “you’re getting warmer” and Mr. Haggles crawls his way down a bright red corridor which is made of what appears to be bubble wrap. While the set design looks to be a mediocre haunted garage that can be found in any suburb on Halloween night, it is a little creepy. Mr. Haggles crawls his way, chasing his blowing cash, to what is perceived to be Hell. Good riddance.
But what about all the poor people who were in debt to Mr. Haggles?
Well, the witch gave it all to Billy. The End.
As we finished this tale of awesome, I came out of my “Tales From The Darkside” trance to the world around me. Only Jimmy was sitting next to me but where was Rebecca? Apparently during the Hell scene she ran from the room and down to the bible study in tears telling her parents that I forced her to watch ‘R’ rated devil shows. Before I could evaluate the situation I heard the familiar sound of my Mom’s fast paced stair climbing gape. There was nowhere to hide. Jimmy looked at me and said, “You’re in a lot of trouble”. Fuck you, Jimmy, you home-schooled melvin.
The credits were still rolling while Mom and her parents breached the door and she yanked me from the floor so fast there was a tiny pop from a sound barrier break. I was escorted to my room by the elbow and Jimmy was taken downstairs to join his traumatized sister and would be given cookies and cake until their parents decided to leave. I cursed them all from my bed having daydreams much like Ralphy from The Christmas Story, thinking how sorry they would be if I was blind or have an affliction that required sympathy. But I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.
By the next week when bible study came around, the melvins did not join me. I was thankful for this but my Saturday nights had to be spent without TV. But was it worth it?
You know, now that we are getting close to Halloween, I feel it is my duty this year to shed some light on what is not the appropriate candy/treats to hand out. Reading Pam’s blog from today inspired this and hopefully I may save someone from a November first morning of pulling toilet paper off the branches of the trees. I am not saying I am the know all of candy or what is acceptable to the average ten year old, but I have many years of getting my pillow case weighed down by sugary shit and alternative treats. And being the little prick I was, the poor souls found out the hard way that their disconnect from Halloween led to mayhem in their front yard.
Stop right there! No! No! Bad treat giver! If you even think about giving out blue mints or sugar free hard candies you need to choke yourself. Think about this general rule: if you can find it at the bottom of your great Edna’s purse, you shouldn’t have it in the trick or treat bowl. No kid needs these. Not even the diabetic kid. Brach’s never intended these candies to be used as treats and this should be apparent since I have yet to see bats and pumpkins on the bags. No, Brach intended these to be after “early bird special” mints. So, if you hand these out the result might be this:
See? See what can happen? All because they gave out grandma-treats.
Oh Ho! Yep, people still do this. I have memories of getting five pennies scotch tapped together and wanting to say, “no, no…you keep it. I’ll only throw it through your garage window when you shut the door.” I still don’t understand the thought process behind this. These people actually taped five pennies together which, if i did my elementary math correct, meant they probably blew the same amount of money pissing off the neighborhood kids that could have been spent on Snickers. Plus, a handful of pennies can do this if thrown hard enough.
Well, maybe if Randy Johnson threw them. But you get the point.
The next treat is a no brainer. So let me break it down for you.
Eaten by these:
Looks like they were shit by these:
And primarily given out for Halloween by these:
You guessed it! It’s one of the worst tricks that poses as a treat.The mother fuckin’ raisin.
Now how does this box of death find it’s way into the treat bag? I can only venture to guess that it is the underground society of Dietitians Against M & M’s (D.A.M.M.). I mean really, there is nothing good about dried fruit and various forms of fiber supplements when there are thousands of better choices available. And cheaper! So grandma, I know you want to fight the system but your efforts will be futile. And if you still don’t get it, it’s your funeral! See?
This will ruin your Stride Rites! So take heed, and resist the temptation to hand out nutritious boxes of bullshit. Or deer shit. Whatever.
I am on the fence about giving out coupons for Halloween. Sure I still have a few retro McDonald’s coupons from the 80’s and as an adult they are neat to remember but when I was a kid I thought, “I bet this will stay on the fridge way passed the expiration date”. And I was right. Growing up, my folks only stopped at fast food restaurants on cross country road trips. So in order to utilize a coupon that meant a special effort had to be made. And it never happened. So I guess this treat is really a trick on the parents. You maybe safe from reprisals but like I said, I was a little dick and this could happen:
“That there is a felony offense…” Kids can be just awful, you know? So why tempt fate?
Oh don’t do this. Don’t make your own Halloween candy! I remember after a long night of trick or treating the first order of business was to get the “ok” from Dad to eat the candy. The “ok” was only granted after he visually inspected all the candy for anything that looked suspicious and the first thing in the garbage was the homemade treats. So keep that in mind before you make 300 vampires on a stick. And god forbid a kid gets sick.
There are worse things than getting the house egged. I know this looks extreme but we live in the age where neighbors sue neighbors over barking dogs. Just wait to see what happens when little Johnny Snot Face pukes on the family sofa after eating a gourmet chocolate mummy you made with a touch of love.
“Oh how cool! Candy in the shape of toothbrushes! Talk about irony. Wait a minute…..these aren’t candy at all. These are fucking real toothbrushes! What the….?”
That is a conversation I had at age 11. For the life of me I could not wrap my head around the fact that someone could hand out hygiene products in place of sugar. Are they being funny? Are they transplants from Indonesia and missed the point of Halloween? Or is it something more sinister? I went with that.
See what can happen when you mess with tradition? When you buck the system, the system can buck back. There is meaning behind “trick or treat”. If by “treat” you think toothbrush then by “trick” kids mean burn your damn house to the ground. That’s how we do things in America.
I hope I was able to shed some light on what are acceptable treats for Halloween. I feel it is my duty to pay it forward after a childhood of being mischievous. Karma has a way of kicking you in the nuts if you don’t and believe me, I have a lot to pay forward. So this year, keep it Wonka. That way you can avoid waking up and finding the mob has “taken care” of your jack-o-lantern.
Casserole of Disaster 