This Halloween is marked by a spot on the calendar that is truly unusual — it falls on a Saturday, which is the perfect timing just like a zombie suddenly sitting straight up in a coffin, so people can start with the decidedly black revelry already on Thursday, and take Friday off and then go out for a prelim that night, then celebrate the utmost on Vampire King Saturday, (see a summary of such activity below), followed by eat the candy you collected come Sunday.
Then there is the Daylight Savings Day debacle, also falling that night. Do we party down for one less hour, or rev up for an hour more, in the hours after midnight passes. As it was, there were a series of empty parking spaces on Friday around 10 p.m. as people were tired from staying up late with the Brew Crew, and wanted to save what they had left for Saturday night, which could be extended.
About the time all this got started, there was a day that will not fall again this century, when all its eight digits for month-day-year, like a password, make up the pythagorean theorem. Math nerds, one more reason to go as Dr. Sheldon Cooper tonight. Or the late, great Patrick Stewart.
Gee, they might as well have had the official start of autumn fall too on this day, just to make it square.
It’s also been, topically, national breadstick day, filled with cheese from our great state for something also pure Wisconsin, a buck at Kwik Trip. Also, national first responder’s day was on tap recently, needed in case a poor some buddy got too nutzo with a stump of a chainsaw, when jumping out of the bushes like a creature, or like a creep? What the hell am I doing here? I think there was even something like national kazoo day thrown in.
If they vote in Congress to cancel the provision of Daylight Savings Time, we wouldn’t have to worry about whether or not we could be in costume for another hour, or two, before bar time. But for now … So together we fall back — a topic of an impromptu discussion at a sports bar by the staff about just what that entails — like in terror to a demon jumping out of the mist.
Right before Halloween weekend, a family member had to drive through such foggy mist that hung around, and hung low, for three straight mornings, existing well past the freeway commute from her other job in the city, and then exiting into rural places. That might be where you’d find a sorta survivalist encampment, like was the idea to be prepared for all that comes not by the Boy Scouts, but by Fleet Farm, and they’ll sell you all the gear to do so, in addition to hunting supplies.
A rural area is where you might find Harold, a new mascot of sorts for Fleet Farm. In what I think was a stroke of genius in the marketing department, they floated out via email a suggestion that the cupboard had been raided and knocked askew. What vile creature would do such a thing? The killer kitty? A mad dog? They said to — here’s the rub — stay tuned to coming emails, and come the weekend the culprit will be revealed. Waiting with bated breath. Brilliant.
At the library and its earlier trick or treat trail (mix) of a party, I told the customer experience representative to re-dye and re-die their hair, as they’re dyed in the wool about frequently changing it up, especially for Halloween. Make it a quite-orange-based different color not seen before; it was said the ghost colors were past and passe.
As it was, the library took a spooky turn by turning the former adjacent cop shop into a haunted haven for their trail mix of a party, which is typically not one of terror. This earliest Halloween prequel still was well attended, even though they didn’t take the youngsters through the scary part of the department, (think jail cell. With just that one seat and a pot? OK, just kidding. That would be Putin’s prison potty. See more of such humor/analysis coming right before election day.)
While sitting in your cold cell, waiting for the bell to begin to chime, you can edit the photos on your camera you snuck in with the hacksaw, not a chainsaw and not in a cake, by talking … to them. Maybe also making suggestions from those talking-or-screaming-at-you monsters being photographed on where to cut off their heads or feet, at the knee?
Where to go to see such sites? The inflatables are most lumenous along the major thoroughfares, where the most people will see them, although sometimes if you go off the beaten track, that’s better. Or somewhere between? If you skip I-94 and its frontage roads, and stay on Eleventh, you’ll see some cool stuff. Hudson’s Third Street, if not exactly stunning, shows a fair amount of consistency in neighbors banding together.
But speaking of off with the head, the Food Network has been airing a Halloween Baking Championship, and a spooky dolly is shown holding a butcher knife. Bride of Chucky? Blend in any human parts? It would be advisable not to air this, in case any children would be watching, until after 9 p.m. In a separate promotion, by the same coupon-based ad company, they’re “giving away a new car!” But this is not guitar-note-or-three, name-that-tune. Hey, we really like this idea.
OK, where to get the goodies tonight and some costume contest cash or gift card too: Near midnight, you can clean up at Smilin’ Moose and Dick’s Bar, and getting going earlier but carrying through too are the spooky drink specials at Hudson Tap, and Max’s Social House is a lock for high energy cavorting, even with a bit of an older crowd. At the Wild Badger in New Richmond, as far as the weekend goes, it’s been even more of a lock, and you might try karaoke across the street at Bobcat’s. Between the two cities, is Big Guy’s BBQ with what’s become a tradition, a KISS cover band that puts the fire and tongue into Halloween night. And if you want specials on The Things That Should Have Sold Out By Saturday, Jerry’s Foods just might fit the bill, as it had an extensive creepy crawl complete with cookie decorating in a new twist on the 31st. The Agave Kitchen has to paraphrase a sign as tall as Frankie in its doorway, Old Fashioneds that might as well be Manhattens as they bring the S’mores and are like being around a campfire, but Mak It Classy, (sic), pumpkin spice martinis, and combos of Rumpleminze and apples to make a spritz. Last but not least, Buffalo Wild Wings has a series of vampish apps or drink specialties that would kill such a creature, since to summarize, ingredients include both double and black garlic, black rim salt and black cherry liquor.