Halloween has come and gone. I wore no costume. I skipped the only Halloween party I was invited to; V. and I have been getting up at 6, and I just didn’t think I could bedeck myself in nacre and ormolu and swing, brother, swing after a ten-hour day. We bought two bags of candy and received not a single trick or treater. I don’t know if it’s the awfulness of the the September 11 attacks, anthrax fears, or just a sense that partying would be inappropriate, but this was a very subdued Halloween. I’ve been invited to a Day of the Dead party tonight, but I may not got. I looked forward to this holiday so much when I was younger; even a few years ago, this was a big deal among my friends, who managed such costumes as an angel with five-foot wingspan, a BART station, and a commedia dell’arte puppet. But this year? We went to my friend Andrew’s apartment last weekend and watched a double feature of Spielberg’s excellent Jaws (which V. had never seen before) and the impressively shot (for its budget) and innovative but not actually good Carnival of Souls. Other than that, no concessions were made to the holiday, and ersatz and commercial though it is, I kind of missed it. I recently discovered, to my immense delight, Haunted Attraction, the trade journal of the "dark amusement industry". Spend a few minutes looking at the wonderful, wonderful articles. Even if Halloween’s pleasures prove transitory, geekery is forever. None