My 36-year-old son informed me that my grandfathering status has been moved up three weeks. My daughter-in-law has a delivery complication for which the doctors don’t want to take any chances, and they don’t want her to go into labor. Thus, a delivery date of September 27 has been scheduled, and so it shall be. I’m prepared. I have nothing really to do with this event, but nonetheless, I am prepared like I was taught in the Boy Scouts. And, yes, I am doing a Burrito the same week so be ready for the (s)weeping expressions of happiness and all that.
A few weeks ago, I wrote that Halloween costumes, candy, and decos were on display at the big box stores sooner than ever. Back-to-school stuff has been put in the back stockroom. Even Disneyland is in the act as their nightly float parade at the theme parks is now Mickey’s Not-So-Scary Halloween Party, and it started last Friday. I read in a news article: “Disney is firing the first, extremely early shot in this year’s theme-park Halloween arms race. Some events, like Disney’s, are more family-oriented. Others at Six Flags and Universal Studios lean into the horror, with actors in gory makeup trolling the grounds. What nearly all of these events of the Halloween industrial complex have in common is that they are growing—in size, popularity, and most notably, duration. The witching hour has turned into the witching months.” The Halloween industrial complex … well put.
