People don't say "trick-or-treat" anymore. They don't even say "hi," let alone "thank you" when they come to your door. They stare at you with creepy eyes and grab half of what's in the bowl, then turn and clamber back up the driveway, groaning like the undead because we gave out Snickers instead of Starbursts. For starters, who in their right mind would prefer Starbursts to Snickers?
If I say anything like "don't you want to leave some for other people?", they'll just look up from the bowl, blink a few times, and grab another handful. Most of "them" aren't even kids. Many are old enough to be my parents, some even to be my grandparents.
Four or five years ago, when I first started staying home to give out candy and watch TCM movies instead of trick-or-treating, most people still dressed up in costumes. Everyone walked door-to-door, either because gas prices were too high to drive or because they weren't afraid of burning some calories before eating several thousand more in candy. Kids would say "trick-or-treat" and usually took only one or two things voluntarily, sometimes three after asking if they could. The same families would come back year after year, and only the kids took candy--not the kids and the kids' parents and the kids' grandparents. No one took "some extras" for their fifteen cousins with broken ankles or for their dogs who "just love" candy.
Now, everyone drives huge vans and SUVs door to door, and I half wonder why some people don't just drive golf carts up the driveway from their SUVs to our front door as well. Kids pound furiously on the doorbell until I'm sure they're going to break the door down with a battering ram, and it often turns out they're not even kids. One lady has come to our door with her grandson for the past three years (with her own bucket for candy), and I'm sure she's at least 60. She's a modern Mrs. Shimerda (go read My Ántonia...now!). I honestly don't mind her that much because she's sweet and at least smiles and actually has a kid with her, but most of the other adults going door-to-door don't have a kid anywhere to be seen and don't bother trying to be nice.
What's more, half of the people who come trick-or-treating don't say "trick-or-treat" or "hi" or even smile like the 60-year-old lady. They smile like the guy in the trailer of The Purge, sometimes complete with machete.
There is one traditional family each year. They dressed up as a family of demonios once, as vampires the year after. They all wear full costumes--mom, dad, and all three kids--but the parents don't have their own buckets for candy and they insist that their children be polite and not run off with our whole bowl of offerings. They don't have fifteen cousins back at home with broken ankles who couldn't go trick-or-treating on their own, they don't drive a huge SUV that blocks out the moon, they don't pound on the door and wail like banshees because we're giving out Snickers instead of Starbursts. They understand the simple fact that candy with chocolate is infinitely better than candy without chocolate.
Ironically, they don't speak English very well, but they say "trick-or-treat" and "please" and "thank you" and even talk to me about their costumes. For people who barely speak English, they say a whole lot more than most people who come to the door speaking English as a first language. They smile--and not like the Joker or like characters out of The Purge. Each year, it's refreshing to see them waltzing up the driveway after hordes of Starburst-thirsty adults in ripped jeans and faded college t-shirts have stormed through.
I guess my question is, "Why has the average trick-or-treater family gone from being like the nice demonio family to being a horde of modern Mrs. Shimerdas?" Are there still neighborhoods of legit trick-or-treaters, or is this the new norm?
What will the average trick-or-treater be like when the little demonio kids grow up and are giving out candy themselves?
