Richard Hogan: Halloween is a season of magic — and mayhem, if teens can get away with it

Richard Hogan: "When I had kids the magic of Halloween came back. The excitement of who they would dress up as, the running around to neighbours’ houses, knocking, ‘twick or tweet’, and then the returning home with an Everest of cheap chocolate that would keep them fed until the new year. Halloween became my favourite time of year again."

I’ve had a love/hate relationship with Halloween. I loved it as a kid, dressing up and going around my estate, knocking on doors, and getting free chocolate; what’s not to like?

All the chat in the weeks leading up to it about who you were going to be that year. 

Michael J Fox, from Back to the Future, Michael Jackson, ET, Indiana Jones, a character from Ghostbusters, or an old reliable witch. 

We ghouls and goblins even ventured into neighbouring estates, driven demented by visions of chocolate.

Sometimes, we went too far, and like a scene from Hemingway’s The Old Man and the Sea, we had to carefully navigate our way back without being hopped (Cork slang for beaten up and robbed) for our bag of treasure. It required delicate planning.

October is a magnificent month. The smoke from chimneys, leaves swirling around in the cold wind, the fog breaking over the roofs of houses, 

I have always loved this season. But there was a knack to not getting egged or beaten up. 

The secret was not going out too late or going too far; the older, more dangerous kids were out later at night, and they were armed with eggs, flour, and what we called a ‘donkey’s bollocks’. That’s more Cork slang, meaning a concoction of alcoholic spirits. 

It struck me even then as a child, that those kids out there running around, throwing eggs at buses and tormenting us younger ones, were given an amnesty for their behaviour because it was Halloween. 

I remember one evening when I got it wrong, and went too far and didn’t quite make it back unscathed; black eye, bag ripped, goodies gone, egg in hair, I declared into the cold smoky evening, ‘I hate Halloween’. I didn’t.

As a young home owner in my 20s, I started to dread Halloween. All the fireworks, gangs of hooded teens running around the place, more eggs, and the odd bit of light vandalism. 

The day after, I’d emerge from our house like Victor Meldrew to assess the damage and whether or not I needed to wash egg off the door.

But then I had kids, and the magic of the season came back. 

The excitement of who they would dress up as, the running around to neighbours’ houses, knocking, ‘twick or tweet’, and then the returning home with an Everest of cheap chocolate that would keep them fed until the new year.

Halloween became my favourite time of year again. The kids would even say they prefer it to Christmas. 

There is something special this time of year. I’d often drive through Leap in West Cork. The kids’ eyes wide, gasps as we slowly move through that magical town.  Ghouls, ghosts, and gigantic murderous fiends hanging everywhere. Dead men lawnmowing their gardens. Zombies coming out of the dead land.

There is something diabolical happening in every little nook and cranny in that town. Magic. It is some spectacle for an adult mind not to mention a child’s mind. 

So, Halloween was extraordinary in those days of having young children. All the chat on the way to school with their friends and the planning what route they would take.

But now I have a teenager, and my take on Halloween has once again moved a little on the dial.

I definitely don’t hate it, but I certainly have to think about it differently. I have to parent it now.

There are Halloween parties and sleepovers to negotiate. I’m not a huge fan of sleepovers at the best of times. 

I never let the children have sleepovers when they are younger than 10 and in houses I don’t know the parents. 

As my eldest daughter hit the teen years, I had a golden rule: no sleepovers after concerts and no sleepovers during Halloween.

If ever there is a time during the year for your teenager to experiment with alcohol, it will be at a concert or Halloween. 

So, that was a rule to somewhat combat that possibility. I’d also make sure I was the one picking them up from the concert. 

You might think twice about skulling some alcopops, knowing your dad is outside waiting for you.

Well, that was my logic anyway. It does feel like the adult world suspends its rules for one night only. 

Even members of An Garda Síochána seem to take a step backwards from anti-social teenage behaviour. 

Just because it’s Halloween doesn’t mean we should give our children the message it is OK to drink alcohol.

I know adolescence is a time of adventure and experimenting, but putting a substance into a brain that is already wired to take risks and make mistakes is not a good idea. Not to mention the health implications.

Over the next few weeks, parents of teenagers all over this country, will be put under all sorts of pressure to let their child out and go to a party with a sleepover at the end of it.

My advice would be to listen to your parental instincts. Your child might be very annoyed with you, but I’d rather them dislike me for a moment — and it is only a moment — than they get caught in some difficult situation that might last a lot longer than Halloween night.

By setting the boundary early, no sleepovers on Halloween night, you just might protect your child from risky behaviour.