Well, it's that time again, kids—Halloween in the Wood River Valley, and no other place does it better. And where else can you draw upon so many local, home-spun ideas?
Where else, I ask you, can you go out on the town and run into zany locals dressed as, say, "The Phantom Hill Wolf" or "Mickey Garcia" or "The Prophet?" Nowhere, I tell ya. You just might run into the "Rude Spandex Cyclist" or "The Swine Flu Pig" or "The Larry Craig Porto-Can." How about a "Golfing Black Bear" or a mountain man called "Whiskey Jacques" on fire? These are the unique costumes that mark our sacred valley.
There will be folks dressed as shanties and huts depicting low-income housing. Don't be surprised if you run into a sheep or a snowman or a black lab. These are all part of our culture here in the Land of Oz.
Halloween is dear to me because my first daughter, Sarah, was born on this hallowed eve and her first glimpse of life was of her father wearing a Bozo mask. Such are legends born. Can you imagine having your birthday on Halloween? The lass remains a party animal to this day.
So, get out there and rejoice ye noble sons and daughters of Blatant County! Forget the trials and tribulations of this past year and revel in the merriment peculiar to us. Go into the streets and witness the "Walking Baldy Gondola."
Gaze at the "Wagon Days Mule" and the "Castle Rock Guitarist." See a bevy of "Ernest Hemingways" and "Ezra by the Pounds." Dance with "Snow Bunnies" and "Rob Santas." This is our time. This is our destiny.
Nice talking to YOU!