"Ooo-ooo" Went The Wind

Does anyone else take issue with the words "Gourmet" and "Candy Corn" being used together? Gourmet high fructose corn syrup, gourmet artificial flavour and gourmet artificial colour. Mmmm.

When I think gourmet, I think of something so good, so decadent, that you kind of want to sneak into a closet to eat it, away from anyone who might try to make you share. The vast majority of Halloween candy does not fall into that category. Most of it is not even good.

My best years of trick-or-treating were between the ages of 12 and 17. That's right, I said 17. It's the only time my being short has been an advantage. Well then and for installing car seats. Luckily for me, my best friend during my teen years was also short, and we made the most of it. She and I would meet up at my house (she lived on a farm sort of in the boonies, so my neighbourhood was the more "mother-load-of-candy friendly" of the two), and decide what the quotas would be for that year. We'd determine how many of what kinds of candy we would acquire before calling it quits for the night. Usually near the top of the list were Kit Kats, with other kinds of candy coming and going from year to year, depending on our mood.

After a while, we got really good at singling out those houses that had "good" candy, and those that would always give out lousy stuff like those nasty beige/grey chewy things that you only hand out if you don't really like children. What were those things anyway? It wasn't toffee, or taffy, and had no distinctive flavour... just sticky, tooth decaying nothingness.

The problem was, not every house would give both of us the same candy, so a mini (friendly) competition would start between us to see who could hit their targets first. The night was always full of laughter, like the time my moustache fell off (I was an Arab Sheik, ok?) in a yard covered in knee-deep leaves. We got down on hands and knees, and searched for about 10 minutes before my friend declared, "We need to say a prayer." I launched into a massive laughing protest about how I was not praying over a moustache.

After we said "Amen", I put my hand down on the ground to balance myself to stand up, and there was my moustache. We were in tears. Not the kind you're usually in after an answered prayer.

But then there was another tradition we had, that wasn't just about fun. The owner of the company where my dad worked, and his wife lived on the street behind us. They were really nice people who for years let us come and swim in their pool in the summers. Most kids would run up, get their candy and run off. When we came to the door, we got invited inside. The lady of the house had MS, and couldn't come see the kids all dressed up. So we'd go in and say hello, and chat for a bit, let her ooo and ah over our costumes and it was one of the best parts of trick-or-treating for us.

Come to think of it, almost none of my best memories of Halloween had anything to do with the actual candy, (except for the favourite chocolate bars of 2 of my grandparents, which I would mail to them some years). Don't get me wrong, I was not above hiding and hoarding my candy after I got home, but that was just secondary to all the other stuff.

Maybe that's why Halloween candy mostly stinks, and no one cares. Gourmet Candy Corn. Please.