Colm O'Regan: Trick-or-treating is still labour-intensive

Comedian and Irish Examiner columnist Colm O'Regan pictured in Cork. Pic: Denis Minihane.

The signs have been building for weeks. Daytime fireworks and furtive small-boy scurrying with flammable material on wheels.

Although fireworks seem to have lessened in recent years. There were times when they were heard in August and continued until February. 

This was during the pandemic. “That’s July 12th parades surplus,” I said knowingly to other dads while leaning against a tree in the playground. 

Stating opinions like they are facts, based on no data whatsoever. That’s MY Halloween tradition. So every day is Halloween.

You see the youngsters who’ve been throwing away consumables all year suddenly turn into preppers and salvage merchants. 

Nine-year-olds pushing trolleys laden with pallets like the urchins of yore pushed the carts in a coal mine. 

It’s great to see the old traditions making a comeback.

Every year I say wistfully: “If only they put that energy into something more useful.” 

But honestly, what are young lads to do with their nuclear fission levels of energy? They may be not going to be out making a biodiversity garden. They just want to burn. 

Let’s just be glad of the time they are spending stealing fuel, outfoxing the authorities, fighting over territory, and setting fire to things. 

We’ll need that expertise when society devolves into tribes. As well as biodiverse horticulture.

I’m looking forward to being the trick-or-treating host. My wife does the walk and I stay at home to mind the sweets and hope that doorstep traffic is light this year and there’s more for me. 

I love the whole ceremony. It is VERY cute when a very small human knocks at your door and then forgets their lines. 

I like watching their behaviour. If the child is a two-handed sweet-grabber, I glance up at the parent with a knowing smile to let them know I’m judging them for their child’s impulse control. 

Some children are accompanied by older siblings. They skulk at the gate. Ready to take their 15%. 

Later on, when I think it’s died down, a straggle of older kids are seen around the place. They’ll take the sweets but really they are looking for vapes and crypto.

I’ve become relaxed about the phrase “TRICK OR TREAT!” 

You hear people bleat: “What’s all this ‘trick or treating nonsense’? It was ‘Help the Halloween Party’ when we were growing up.” 

Well, OK, grand. Nothing’s stopping you from going out and shouting that. They go silent then. Their time has passed. “The game’s changed,” they say wistfully. “The game’s the same, just got more fierce,” I remind them. 

By the way, trick or treat is “bob nó bia” in Irish. In the year of the 2,000th episode of Ros na Rún it’s the least you could do rather than be moaning about why we’re not carving turnips.

Like everything we’ve done since 1994, Halloween has of course been a disaster for the environment. 

There has been a general explosion in costumery all year round, let alone Halloween. Christmas jumpers, St Patrick’s Day tat, general dress-up clothes. 

I still marvel at the fact that my children have spare clothes ‘just for dressing up’. All my clothes were ‘wearing clothes’. 

Thankfully a smidge of cop-on seems to be coming back with a number of Halloween costume swap events having taken place this year. 

Children don’t care about second-hand. They just want something chewy to remove their milk teeth. 

What I like about trick-or-treating is that it is still labour-intensive and inefficient and sometimes cash-based. 

No tech bro has tried to come up with a coding solution. 

There isn’t someone at the door with a little card machine or a QR code. Now that would be scary.