With every passing year, it seems like Halloween gets less and less fun for everybody involved. The kids are pretty much confined to trick-or-treating in the controlled environment of shopping malls. Fewer and fewer ring the bells in their neighborhoods. I understand the reasons for this, but that doesn't make it any less unfortunate.
I miss the days when bedsheeted ghouls would flit from house to house unconcerned about getting adulterated candy or being kidnapped or worse. There were even occasional tricks played that did not involve high explosives or handguns. We used to make creative use of soap and toilet paper instead.
To give you an idea of just how long ago that was, there was a code of honor involved. We came back the next day to clean up.
Since the kids can't enjoy the holiday anymore, I guess it's up to us adults. Reiko and I get in touch with our inner vampires every year. Mr. and Mrs. Tepes slapped on a lot of makeup and headed for a favorite jazz club in Vancouver (BC). Odd how it takes less and less makeup each year to make me look undead.
There weren't very many people at The Cellar, which was a shame. A group of UBC music profs known as Hammond Eggs were playing. The name comes from the fact that they use an old-style Hammond organ just like the one Earl Grant used to work out on. If you remember the latter name, you are truly over the hill. No high-tech keyboard has ever achieved quite the sound produced by one of these dinosaurs.
The group was fronted by a young Canadian jazz singer by the name of Denzel Sinclaire. If you haven't heard of him yet, you will. He's getting a lot of airplay on radio stations north of the border.
Denzel and the boys had put a lot of work into creating a series of sets that were appropriate for the occasion. We were treated to originals like "Blues for Freddie K" and "Trick or Treat." They also played some oldies like the Classics IV's "Spooky" and Santana's "Black Magic Woman." Some readings from Poe and Coleridge rounded out a fine evening of jazz.
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I have been contending for some years now that Vancouver has the finest restaurants in North America, if not the world. Canada's liberal immigration policies have attracted restauranteurs from the four corners resulting in a variety of cuisines available in only a very few cities. What's more, the quality of these establishments is superb.
Even the cheap places (with the obvious exception of fast-food chains) put out good food. I can honestly say I have never had a bad restaurant meal in Vancouver.
Many of those immigrants came from Hong Kong when it was assimilated by China. Reiko and I tried the Fortune Garden on West Broadway for the first time. This establishment is as far above the usual MSG palace as Picasso is above Kinkade. If you go, try the abalone in cream sauce. A bit pricey, but worth every penny, especially when paying in American dollars.
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Those of you who got sucked into the media black hole surrounding the serial sniper may have learned more about my place of residence than you ever wanted to know. Muhammad and Salvo hung out here in Bellingham for a while during their odyssey. The media feeding frenzy has some of us rethinking Bellingham's official nickname: The City of Subdued Excitement.
Yes, most of us here were thoroughly embarassed when the mayor plumbed new depths of bad taste by making a pitch for tourism on national TV. He's not a bad guy, actually. For a politician.
Quite frankly, a lot of 'Hamsters won't mind if we get a rep as a haven for serial killers. It'll help keep the riff-raff out of our little bit of heaven.
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One of the things we northwesterners like about living here is the fall monsoon season. It helps reinforce our image as a cold, rainy, nasty place where no sane person would want to live.
You can spot northwesterners by the spring in their strides and the smiles on their faces when "the gales of November come early." You can also spot them by the fact that they never carry umbrellas, no matter how hard it's raining.
This is because it's usually blowing a gale at the same time and umbrellas do very little good against horizontal rain. The capricious winds of autumn also make a sport out of snatching umbrellas out of your hand and depositing them in the Idaho panhandle. Somewhere in those mountain fastnesses lies the fabled Umbrella Graveyard.
We haven't needed any sort of foul weather gear this fall and it's making us crazy. Northwesterners suffer from a sort of reverse seasonal affective disorder. If there is too much sunny, dry weather, sales of Prozac skyrocket.
September and October have been among the driest such months on record and have a lot of us worried about the effects of climate change. We like our cheap hydropower and the fabled Cascade Concrete that passes for snow in our mountains. Having just recovered from one drought, we're not looking forward to another.
Along with the dryness has come record-setting cold and a massive temperature inversion. The inversion has trapped pollutants close to the ground and resulted in a very rare air pollution advisory and burn ban. Excuse me while I reach for the Benadryl.
Reiko lives in North Vancouver, BC, where the water is usually pristine. Lately, it has become a pale yellowish shade that bears a remarkable resemblance to Coors beer. The reservoirs are so low that silt in being sucked into the intakes. Governments are asking people not to wash cars or water lawns. Reiko and I did our bit by showering together.
It is becoming increasingly apparent, even in the soggy northwest, that climate change is a reality we'd better address. If we don't give up our SUV's, we're going to end up needing dune buggies.
Yes, Shrubya, I know that ratification of the Kyoto protocols will cause some of your corporate buds to make somewhat less obscene profits. There will certainly be some short-term economic collywobbles. But if we don't stop obsessing about next quarter's bottom line and pay attention to environmental reality, there is going to be some economic disruption the likes of which your cowboy preppie brain can't even imagine. It's a shame you're not literate enough to read science fiction. Those boys have a pretty good track record when it come to predictions.
As one who reads a lot of science fiction, I'd just as soon not see much of it come true.
3:30:13 PM 
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