In the eleven years Iíve lived here at Oak Manor, Iíve never had a trick-or-treater come to my door on Halloween night. (Or any other night, for that matter, and thank goodness for that). And yet last night I did what I do every Halloween. I kept all the outside lights off. I kept all the inside lights off. I didnít exactly cower in the dark, but I did watch a movie in the dark. A black and white movie, just for extra protection.
It worked better than garlic on the door. Or it didnít work at all, and Iím just lucky enough to live so far off the beaten path that even greedy children (not to mention greedy teenagers and greedy adults) donít find it worth the effort to trudge through the high grass to get to my stash of nonexistent candy.
The remoteness of Oak Manor works on auditors, too, but not on religious zealots. Those missionary types are relentless, and not even garlic on the door keeps them away. Maybe itís because Iím always polite to them when I shut the door in their face that keeps them coming back. Itís a little like the charity that you give a dollar to one time. You hear from them for the rest of your life, no matter how steadfastly you ignore them.
Which is not to say I donít give to charity. Letís get that straight. I just donít give to every one that comes along, every time they ask. Okay? And itís a little harder to part with my money as the years go by and Iím trying to build up my retirement fund, or my funeral fund, whichever comes first. Iím not planning on needing either for a long, long time, but you never know. Life plays funny tricks, in between the random treats.