Some Things Just Aren’t Funny
The only frost on the pumpkin here in north Florida will be there if it lands off someone’s frosty mug, but it’s Halloween time on the Gulf once again. Our little coastal town has one main street, not even a mile long, that includes most of the shops and restaurants. Late afternoon on Halloween, the street is closed to all traffic, and all of the merchants set out tables on the sidewalk with bowls of candy to pass out to the couple hundred trick-or-treaters about to rampage. A lot of the business owners themselves are in costume, as are a lot of the parents wandering up and down the street. A couple of Jedi’s usually end up in some light saber training in the middle of the street, and a troupe of middle-aged synchronized dancing witches shows up every year to perform their routines to the delight of all. There are costume contests in the little town park at one end of the street, and children have plenty of candy to get hopped up on while sitting in one of the restaurants with Dad who just earned his own frosty mug.
We try never to miss this annual celebratory milepost, and most years we dress up ourselves, and take sacks of candy, passing it out at random to the ravenous throng. My take on Halloween costumes is pretty consistent with my general take, which is there is almost (almost!) nothing that can’t, or shouldn’t be made fun of. Everything and everyone should be fair game, and if someone’s nose gets out of joint, then it’s their fault, and I hope someone gives them raisins.
Following the lead of our esteemed host the KOM, nothing more desperately calls out for, nor more richly deserves satire and ridicule than our own profession, and the parasitic professions and industries which bleed us just enough without killing, always inviting Dracula back to Mina for one more taste. Things were scary three years ago, less so by the time October opened, but amidst the very real infections and death, there was hapless Medicine, dancing to the tune called by a panic-porn media, all driven by the hysteria of an Incompetent Scarf, and the amoral, mercenary dictates of a tyrant bureaucrat, making his own death costume of the cute little white lab coat prop he hid behind while stuffing millions into his homicidal pockets.
By October, 2020 it was evident that mass masking and lockdowns were pointless, and even counter-productive, unless the point was just to force people to take orders, and laugh. By then it was obvious that the China Virus did not come from a wet market rendezvous between a bat and a pangolin listening to Barry White together late at night. The Fauci Extortion Waterfall aka the CDC was forcing physicians to Remdesivir sick patients right into the morgue, and the entire vaccine upheaval was still on the far horizon.
We mercifully live in a state whose governor actually consulted a real public health expert, and quickly reversed course on physically and mentally harmful mandates that never, ever slowed down infection rates. By Halloween, the residents of the Sunshine State wanted more of just that and were tired of the foolishness. We all frolicked out to our little main street with joy and gladness, and walked up and down the street until all of our candy had been given away, had visited with all of our friends, and supper was calling. Some parents laughed out loud, and wanted a picture with me. Some looked visibly angry that I would make light of a topic that I suppose to them seemed off-limits. Oh well. This Halloween, I hope each of us has a costume, even if it’s only in your imagination, that brings a smile. And if you make fun of me, I’ll unwrap another Reese’s Pumpkins two-pack and laugh along with you.
Got a laugh. Great costume!