Well, it’s Halloween again.  As I was observing our annual pumpkin carving
I asked my daughter about her strategy for tomorrow night.  I was saddened
to hear that the plan was to walk around to houses until she and her friends
grew tired.  That’s it?  No battle plan?  No way to store excess
candy?  What a sad state of affairs.  After thinking it over I
realized that kids today simply have too much access to candy.  It isn’t
such a big deal to get anymore.  When I was growing up, we had candy at
Easter, Christmas and Halloween.  My older brother and I would start
planning around Labor Day.  First we needed costumes that would not weigh
much so we could walk longer without wearing ourselves out.  Then we needed
bags that could hold a lot of candy and not break when flung around.  50
pound onion sacks were our best bags.  They stretch but don’t break. 
Then we would get out graph paper and draw our neighborhood.  Yes we
actually drew it out on my father’s writing desk.  Then we would mark the
houses that gave the best candy the year before in one color.  That way, if
we were worn out we could just hit the highlights.  When you’re dragging
that huge bag you don’t want to waste steps for a piece of Double-Bubble. 
Then we would mark the people who worked later in another color.  We could
hit those houses after the others had run out of candy because they started
giving it out later and likely just wanted to empty their bowls at the end of
the night.  The week before Halloween, we fitted our costumes to make sure
they weren’t constraining.  Halloween night Mom could make whatever she
wanted and we would eat it because we weren’t going anywhere until dinner was
done.  (She knew it too and almost always made us eat fish sticks.) 
Then we set out.  The route was drawn in highlighter so we would work one
side of a street and turn from there.  Then we could work the other sides
on the way home.  Our goal was to never waste steps going by houses we had
already hit.  We started at 5PM at the houses where we knew the mother
didn’t work so she would be there with candy.  We knew the map and battle
plan so well that we did not bring it with us.  It would be too hard to
read in the dark.  We would finish our sprint at about 10PM and be right by
home when done.  If rationed correctly and hidden from the dog and other
family members, our candy would last almost till Christmas.  Today the kids
buy a $30 costume with accessories they will never carry.  Then they get
those little plastic pumpkin pales that hold about 10 pieces of candy before
they are filled.  Parents walk behind with spiked drinks and cigarettes,
waiting at the road in case someone tried to abduct their child.  The whole
process is over in about an hour and a half.  By then they are too tired to
go on and have wasted time going back and forth across the street and to the
neighbors.  What a waste!  I spent more on candy than they haul
in.  That’s a bad investment!  Where is the planning?  Where is
the perseverance?  How sad this holiday has become.  And it’s all
because your child can get a Snicker’s bar pretty much any time they want.

Today I purchased Halloween candy.  I have a simple theory behind it. 
If I buy the candy early, my family will just eat it and then I’ll have to buy
more.  So I wait till the last minute.  The problem with my grand plan
is that the candy is pretty picked over by now so you kind of have to take what
you can get.  I started off by checking the grocery store ads to see who
had the best deals.  Once I was satisfied, I took my daughter to school and
went to the store.  The candy aisle looked like the Mother’s Day Card
display the day AFTER Mother’s Day.  The pickings as always were
slim.  That’s scary in and of itself because you don’t want to be known as
the people in the neighborhood who give out yucky candy.  Now candy
companies really know a thing or two about packaging.  Take your Snickers,
Milky Way and Three Musketeers bars.  They are in small bags and cost a
decent amount.  To give those out you would have to buy a lot of
bags.  Then you see a big bag with those same candy bars in it for a
relatively reasonable price.  There’s just one catch.  In with the
good candy bars are candies like Whompers.  Does anybody REALLY like
those?  I have never met anyone who did.  So every other child who
comes to your door is going to think, “Not Whompers!  It wasn’t even worth
walking up the drive for these.”  News like that travels fast around the
block.  We can’t have that.  So I continue down the line.  There
is a huge bag of Kit Kats.  While not necessarily a premium bar, it won’t
go in the trash pile at the end of the night for a child.  Then I look at
the price.  Wow!  For that price I could afford to give candy out for
about 15 minutes before it was gone.  So the question becomes…quality or
quantity?  As with most things in life, you need both.  So how much do
you buy?  You think of the Halloween where you had tons left over and were
eating Sweet Tarts during the Super Bowl Party.  (Those things are like
round Pez!)  Then you remember the year you ran out of candy.  You
would hear the doorbell and think, “Maybe if I don’t answer they’ll go
away?”  Then they ring again.  “They know I’m here, drat!  But I
have nothing left to give them.  Well, it’s time to face the music.” 
You answer the door and explain that there is no more candy.  Little smiles
disappear instantly and a young girl looks like she’s going to cry right over
the makeup of her Selena Gomez costume.  Your heart breaks and you are this
close to handing out dollar bills from your wallet.  Nope.  We can’t
have a repeat of that.  It leaves you with one choice, Big Guy.  You
have to buy the good candy and a lot of it.  You feel trapped as you drop
the bags in the cart.  By the time you get done, you feel like you might be
better off handing out dollar bills.  You shuffle off to the checkout line
and watch the register tape grow with purchases of candy you will probably never
get to eat.  Now you can look forward to checking your child’s candy for
open wrappers or homemade treats with someone’s address on them.  How do we
know that’s the right person’s address?  Even if it is, why take the
chance?  Sorry folks.  You made rice crispy treats for nothing. 
They’re going in the trash.  Dude, how long till Christmas?

It used to be that email was cool.  You would check to see who wrote you
and what was new.  You might get three or four per day.  It was
exciting.  Now I check my email every day, not out of anticipation, but in
order to keep them from piling up.  There are hundreds of messages in
there.  I get department store ads, statements for bills, the same coupons
you were sent yesterday, ads for one day sales every day, food ads, grocery ads,
school newsletters, entertainment news and the list just keeps going.  99%
of it is pure garbage.  I spend at least twenty minutes clicking on an
email and waiting for it to no longer show as new before I hit delete.  You
would think the junk mail folder would help but you need to go through that to
or else it will continue to show new emails there.  And every so often
there is something important that ended up there.  Everyone seems to have
my email address.  I don’t know if companies sell it (which they always
claim that they don’t do) or somehow I signed up for all of this.  Some of
it is easy to track by origin.  Others come out of the blue like notices
about upcoming sporting events or concerts.  I never expressed interest in
this team or music group.  Why do I have to sift through emails about
them?  Each day I probably keep 3-4 messages that are pertinent.  The
rest go in the imaginary recycling bin.  I have tried to “unsubscribe” from
these different places but they make it nearly impossible to do so.  You
have to know your password and follow all these links.  If you actually
manage to do it they ask you to fill out a survey as to why you
unsubscribed.  (That could be a whole blog by itself)  It’s as though
they are shocked that I no longer want to be peppered with their spam.  In
the end, your inbox still has as many messages as ever.  And it isn’t like
the trend is diminishing.  It’s just the opposite.  Everyone is “going
green” and “going paperless” with their bills.  Some companies reward you
with an extra discount if you go paperless.  Others like my bank take the
opposite approach.  If you actually want them to sacrifice a poor 
tree in order to make your precious statement, they charge you.  So you
have to go paperless or else pay for something you won’t look twice at before
filing or discarding.  Maybe emails SHOULD cost money?  Then we
wouldn’t be inundated with cyber-bombardments.  I have asked friends what
they do and they all tell me to change my email address.  That’s like
moving so you won’t get as much junk mail.  It just isn’t practical. 
Think of how many people you would have to notify of the change.  Besides,
changing email addresses just makes me feel like the spammers won.  Perhaps
I’m stubborn but I will not give them the satisfaction.  So I continue my
daily routine of opening and deleting.  There has to be a better way.

Have you ever been asked, “If you could be any animal, what would you be?” 
The question was brought to me and I started to really think about my
answer.  Part of me would want to be something like a lion at the top of
the food chain.  Then I heard they were being hunted into near extinction
which turned me sour on the whole idea.  On top of that, they eat a diet of
raw meat that they have to chase down and kill.  That didn’t sound too
appetizing either.  Then I thought of an eagle.  They soar
majestically across the sky and nest at the highest perches where few can be a
bother.  They also have amazing sight and can see prey from great
heights.  I have seen them on television where they glide effortlessly over
a lake and then suddenly extend their claws and pull a ten pound trout out of
the water.  Now that’s pretty cool if I do say so myself.  Just think
of floating on updrafts and diving like a lightning bolt down to ground level in
a moment. That all sounded pretty great.  Then I thought how hard it would
be to carry that trout back to your nest.  The fish is flopping all over
the place and the eagle is thinking, “Hey my talons have gone clean through your
body.  Even if you shook loose your life is over.  So just give it a
rest.  My nest is at the top of this mountain and you’re getting
heavy.”  Picking through fish guts also is a big thumbs down for me. 
Then I started reading about Koala Bears.  Right off the bat, they live in
the jungles of Australia.  That sounds pretty good right there.  They
sleep for 18-20 hours of the day and spend the rest of their time eating
eucalyptus and mistletoe leaves and bark.  Bark has to have a lot of fiber,
I figure.  And who reading this can honestly say they couldn’t use some
more sleep.  What do these animals have to complain about?  When they
get together does one say, “Dude, I only had 14 hours of sleep last night and
I’m really dragging.  Toss some eucalyptus leaves over here.  I’ll be
right as rain!”  Now that’s the life I want!  Sure one of the leading
causes of death is dog attacks and humans are encroaching on their
habitat.  Then there was the early Twentieth Century where they were nearly
hunted to extinction for their fur.  But overall, can you think of a much
more carefree life?  So that settles it.  If I could be any animal in
the world, I would be a Koala Bear.

I don’t think I will ever understand the pricing of some things.  Take
frozen yogurt for instance.  In the store you can buy a half gallon of
premium ice cream for about $5.  At a frozen yogurt shop you can buy a
little container with some toppings for about $8.  I understand convenience
and markup but really?  That’s a lot for frozen yogurt.  The problem
lies in the fact that you don’t usually go there alone.  You usually take
someone of some significance in your life.  It might be a spouse,
significant other, child or just a friend.  When you’re picking up the tab,
however, it looks pretty bad to say, “Don’t put so much in your cup”, or “Hey,
lay off the gummy bears.  They charge by weight and those things weigh a
ton!”  You just can’t go there.  Instead, you have to smile and pay
for it.  The nice girl behind the counter knows what’s going on but doesn’t
help you.  Instead, she tells the other person or people with you, “Hey,
you should try this topping.  It’s one of our biggest sellers”. 
Thanks ice cream lady!  Then look at the price of pop.  If you want a
20 once pop it will cost you about $1.39 at a convenience store.  You can
also buy 2 liters of the same pop for about $1.39.  Am I missing something
here?  You are giving me less than a third of the amount of product, but
the price is the same.  So you try to save a little money and buy a
fountain drink.  You pay about $1.20 for 32 ounces.  That’s still no
bargain.  Apparently the ability to drink something while traveling down
the road makes it more expensive.  Not so fast.  Then you go to a
restaurant to eat.  They charge $2.99 for a cup of ice with a little pop in
it and boast free refills.  I should hope so.  I would need to have
quite a few watered down drinks in order to get my money’s worth that way. 
So what is the genius behind the pricing of pop?  It costs practically
nothing to make so companies take profit in any form they can.  In
clothing, small sizes cost the same as extra-large sizes.  Plus sizes are
more but there is a lot more material used to make an extra-large than to make a
small.  I actually come out ahead on this deal but people who wear small
get the short end or the deal.  I won’t even get into health care price
differences.  That could be a blog in itself.  I’m not cheap.  I
just don’t see the logic in these prices.

So my twelve year old daughter comes walking by me and I smell something very
fragrant.  I thought it was perfume.  “She seems a little young to be
wearing that?” I thought.  So I asked her what fragrance she was
wearing.  She smiled and said it was hand sanitizer.  After a moment
of embarrassment I thought about it.  Hand sanitizer is everywhere. 
They have it at grocery stores so you can wipe down your cart.  They have
it at gas stations so you can get rid of the smell of gas.  They have it in
doctor’s offices in case you come up against a germ they didn’t catch when they
wiped down the furniture with sanitary wipes earlier.  Even in my
daughter’s back to school list, it said to bring hand sanitizer.  What is
going on?  We have become a nation of germ crazy people.  Everywhere
you go they have hand sanitizer.  We never had it when I was growing
up.  Somehow I survived and if you’re reading this, you did too.  Then
my doctor told me those products kill most germs but don’t usually affect
viruses.  Isn’t that the big argument in favor of hand sanitizer?  I
have also read that lack of exposure to germs makes people less tolerant of them
and therefore, more susceptible to illness.  I’m not against being
clean.  Wash your hands.  Great idea.  But the hand sanitizer is
just too out of control.  It makes you wonder how we lived without
it.  I guess it’s still better than my daughter wearing perfume already.

I try to be a thoughtful husband.  I always remember birthdays, holidays
and anniversaries.  This year my anniversary came up in August and I could
not think of a gift idea for the life of me.  I tried for over a month but
I had either already given it or it was not of interest to her.  So I bit
the bullet and asked her what to get.  She responded by saying, “Don’t
worry about it.  I bought myself a Coach purse you can give me.”  So I
asked what a Coach purse was and I was told it was just a purse.  Then I
asked how much “I” spent and she said, “It was on sale.”  When you aren’t
given a number, it is never good!  So I examined my “gift” and found it to
be a rather ordinary looking purse.  There was nothing special about it
that differentiated it from any other purse besides all the repeats of the
letter C on it.  That led me to ask, “You already have a bunch of
purses.  You can’t even use all the ones you have now.  Why do you
need another one?”  Her response shocked me.  She said, “Everyone else
had one and I felt left out.”  Wow!  It was like middle school all
over again.  I was looking at this from a utilitarian point of view when it
was clearly an issue of peer pressure.  In the end, the purse made her
happy and that was the goal of the gift.  So I decided to let it be. 
Then I went to the store and noticed something.   Nearly every woman
there had a Coach purse!  One even had a Coach wallet.  A family with
twins went by with their double stroller and they had a Coach Diaper bag! 
Can I buy stock in this company?  They absolutely rule the market
place.  There were more women carrying something Coach than wearing blue
jeans.  Easily 75% of the women had something Coach.  It was not an
isolated occurrence.  Every store or mall I visited was the same way. 
Finally I talked to one of the women and mentioned I had bought my wife
one.  Then I asked her what was so special about them and her answer was,
“Everyone has one.  I figured I should too.”  The practical part of me
was floored.  It was one of the most incredible examples of group-think I
had ever seen.  Remember back in school when everyone wore a certain brand
of shoes and so you wanted them too in order to fit in?  The same was true
of jeans and other apparel.  I thought those days were over but it would
seem that meeting status quo is still relevant, particularly for women. 
With men the best example I could come up with was having the right car. 
Even that, however, is varied based on the person or demographic.  The
Coach purse was a universal necessity that transgressed all social
classes.  The sad part of it all is that in a year or so there will be some
other brand that everyone has to have and there will be an expensive purse in my
closet waiting for the trip to Goodwill.  I wonder if women dislike feeling
obliged to buy the latest trend or they look forward to it?  And who starts
these trends, anyway?  Maybe I can convince them to carry around my book.
LOL

I have taken an accounting of my neighborhood and it is official.  My house
sits on the only lot without a tree on it.  That may not sound like a big
deal but I have some serious tree envy.  The area where we live is recently
developed.  We built here because of its location near schools and our
inability to find a standing house we liked.  I have tried buying trees in
the past.  The first one died within one year.  That was quite
disappointing when you consider it cost several hundred dollars to buy and
nearly as much to have planted.  We watered it, buried spikes of some sort
of nutritional stuff, kept the dog away, but it still died.  My daughters
even bought the little “Pine Tree in a Box” kits and tried growing their trees
in clay pots, but they did not make it either.   We bought another and
tried again. After reading the instruction pamphlet carefully, we (I mean my
wife) watered it on a regular schedule and again put fertilizer spikes around it
in the ground.  We watched it daily.  The leaves stayed on through the
spring…into the summer and finally dropped in the fall.  Yes! 
Victory!  We managed not to kill a tree!  A general feeling of
contentment settled over us that winter as the snow covered the ground. 
Then spring arrived.  There were no buds on the tree in March but it was
still kind of early.  April came and the neighbors’ trees showed signs of
life, but ours remained dormant.  Maybe it was a late blooming breed? 
May came and it still looked like Charlie Brown’s Christmas tree two weeks after
the Christmas Play.  It was bear with no signs of life.  I called the
nursery where we bought it and they suggested pruning off braches that looked
dead to allow the others to grow.  With hack saw in hand I approached the
tree.  All the limbs looked dead.  So I cut off the most brittle one
and watched.  Weeks went by and everyone else had leaves.  We did
not.  I cut off two more branches.  After waiting again nothing
happened.  I called the nursery and one of their experts came out. 
After a full fifteen seconds he informed me that my tree was dead.  How
could I have lost her?  She was doing so well last year?  Her little
leaves were blowing in the wind as her branches swayed.  The nice man from
the nursery was consoling me by saying that sometimes these things just happen
and there is no explanation.  So now we sit on a grassy lot without a
tree.  I tell myself that it’s not a big deal.  Why do I need a tree
anyway?  So what if everyone else has one has one.  It just makes
extra work in the fall with leaves to rake.  At least no one can sue me
because they get in an accident saying they couldn’t see the oncoming car
because of my tree.  In spite of these feelings, however, I look out my
window and see the leaves changing color all around me and my yard is like a
giant rolling golf course.  Maybe one day we’ll try again, but we just are
so afraid of losing another one.  In the meantime, people are driving by
thinking, “Why don’t they get a tree.  Everyone else has one.”

When I was in college I took a course on persuasion and one of the facts I have
held onto is this:  People are four times more likely to do something to
avoid pain than to gain pleasure.  If you think about it, the statement is
true.  I don’t pay my bills every month because it makes me feel so
good.  I do it so I don’t have late fees or get harassing phone calls at my
home.  My annual flu shot is not something that brings me joy.  Of
course there are things I do to gain pleasure.  When you think about it,
though, the heart of what motivates people to do things is fear.  Even in
dating, there is certainly a desire for pleasure but there is also the fear of
being alone.  Fear and fear of loss in particular is a powerful
motivator.  That brings me to my point.  Why do people love to
gamble?  I am not talking about buying a lottery ticket when the jackpot
reaches some record number or the ones who set $20 aside to “entertain”
themselves at slots.  I’m talking about people who lose their life’s
savings and more in casinos and betting.  For me, the fear of loss over my
money more than compensates for that desire for gain.  I work hard for my
money and cannot stand to lose it for a thrill.  Have you ever torn your
room apart looking for some money you know you had on a table or in some
jeans?  Then multiply that amount.  Gambling simply makes no sense to
me.  Every game in a casino has the odds in favor of the house.  Still
people ignore the fear of loss and gamble away even though they know they are
likely to lose their money.  And when they occasionally win, what do they
usually turn around and do?  They bet it again.  Then the house wins
back what you have just won.   Few people walk out of the casinos on
top in the money department.  For these people the only thing I can figure
is that their desire for gain somehow overwhelms their fear of loss. 
Somehow that fear is not as strong in them.  Perhaps their losses have not
adversely affected their quality of life.  Perhaps the thrill of possibly
winning is intoxicating and blocks out all other thought.  Whatever the
reason, I believe the fear of loss catches up with these people eventually and
they feel a crash.  When there are no more chips and the bank account is
dry, it has to hit home.  I have seen lives ruined by gambling and it is a
shame.  This is not a blog to degrade anyone who gambles.  I just
don’t see the great thrill it provides.  Heck, I’m still looking for the
money I lost in my room!

I heard on the news the other day that the average size of the American family
has decreased to an all-time low and that population predictions have had to be
revised.  Quite frankly, the issue doesn’t affect me one way or
another.  This is not an attempt to influence personal decisions. 
What was disturbing about it was the fact that so many families out there will
only have one child on which to learn.  Let’s face it.  The first
child is the test child.  They are the ones you test out all the latest
potty training techniques on and try all the stuff in the parenting books. 
You accidently put their clothes on backward because you don’t know any
better.  If they drop their pacifier, you sterilize it before putting it
back in the child’s mouth.  As they mature, they are grounded for the
smallest infractions against your rules.  You go to every parent/teacher
conference if for no other reason than to hear the teacher start off with
compliments about your child.  You record sporting events or dance recitals
from terrible angles where you can’t see anything.  Next, you check the
sand in the playground for “items” that shouldn’t be there before letting them
play.  (I saw one parent with a metal detector) Then you watch your child
like you’re the FBI as they frolic and watch for strange looking people hanging
around.  You overprotect.  It’s not wrong, it’s nature.  This is
your first go around with this whole child thing and you want to get it
right.  By child number 2 the world has changed.  Potty training is a
matter of will power from the parent and embarrassment from the child.  You
ignore the parenting books because most of their “techniques” don’t work on your
children.  When they drop the pacifier, you rinse it off and give it back
to them.  The clothing issue was solved long ago unless you have a child of
the opposite sex.  Then you are still in for the “Why did you send your
child to daycare with their clothes on backward?” letter.  You ease up on
the grounding after you realize all it did was make your child never want to
tell you what they did wrong.  As for the parent/teacher meetings; if the
grades are good, you’re good to go.  Someone points out that you can BUY a
copy of the recital recorded by professionals where you can sort of see your
child.  As for the playground, you now have an older sibling to take them
to the park and play with them.  The strange people you watched turn out to
be your neighbors watching you!  You forget about the sand because you
remember your own childhood.  There was a stainless steel slide that was
about 120 degrees in the sun that you raced up, burning your hands along the
way.  Then you slid down to the end which was as sharp as a razor and took
several layers of skin off your back.  In the end you landed in
gravel!  And after that harrowing experience, what did you do?  Did
you run to your parent or sibling?  No.   You raced back to the
ladder to do it all again.  If you are reading this, somehow you managed to
survive.  There’s nothing wrong with small families.  If that’s what
you’re comfortable with or are able to have, great.  It’s just that you’ve
already done the hard part.  You took your lumps.  With the second kid
onward you can finally set the cruise control and enjoy being a parent.