If you will excuse the pun (it's been about a year since I had the chance, man), it is a sweet time of year. Fall has brought with it cool breezes, mutli-colored foliage, and blazing backyard fire pits. The cruel oppression of the sun is at an end, and harvested crops have left field after field of empty rows: a beautiful symbol of bounties past and deferred. It has also ushered in October, the month that concludes most gloriously with the candy Bacchanalia we call Halloween.
Oh, would that I could go back in time and kiss the pagans that began to worship the lesser deities. If only there were a way to impart to them the positive and lasting impact they have had on my life.
Alas, barring a surprise visit from Bill n Ted, there is no way to do so, so once again this year, I look forward to honoring the pagans the best way I know how: by hastening my inevitable descent into to Type 2 diabetes. Therefore, I will pull the old "What's that?!" routine with young kids so that I can steal their pumpkin pails; I will hunch over beneath a sheet and squeak out my most juvenile "Twick orw tweet" to increase my confectionary tally; and I shall sit in my car on November 1 waiting for Target to open. Faithful readers know why.