October 31st - Halloween in ATL

We all know that Halloween definitely is not what it used to be. Personally, I don't know where the blame lies. Is it because we believe that all of our neighbors are axe-wielding child molesters? Have gates locked us out of the prime areas for the best candy? Could strange, unseasonable weather be the cause of low trick-or-treat turnout? We obviously still celebrate the spooky holiday otherwise there would be no Halloween aisle at the supermarket every year or a crowd of last minute costume shoppers at Party City. I don't know. I just don't know. While preparing for my adult festivities, our house only received three doorbell rings. The last kid that requested treats didn't even have on a costume and I had to give him a plastic bag to hold his candy. I hope Halloween doesn't die by the time my kids are old enough to participate.

In Atlanta, there were parties all over the place! After dressing up in our costumes, we decided to drive around downtown before heading over to The Calabash Lounge in Stone Mountain. There is currently a Gay Pride Festival going on and in my opinion wherever there is gaiety there are sure to be great costumes. Although, I really wanted to, we didn't join the happy revellers because I didn't want to put my boyfriend through another night of uncomfortable come-ons. We passed Ixtlan, a club I've got to get to in the near future, and saw a pretty long line of skimpy costumes accompanied by pimp suits. The reggae spots on Memorial Drive, once we got into Stone Mountain ,looked to be jumpin', jumpin' and we threatened to ditch The Calabash Lounge but having committed to our original plans we went ahead and hit the place up.

Calabash was dead. At 12:30am, it was dead. At 1:00am, it was still dead. At 2:00am, it was dead. When 2:00am repeated itself, it was dead. Why? The Calabash Lounge is an African spot. Africans, as I have learned, are the original source for the practice of operating on colored people's time. There is no such thing as early. There is no getting there on time. Instead, one can count on an African affair to actually begin about three to four hours after the supposed start of the event...no matter what type of event that happens to be. Having grown up in America where earliness and punctuality are typically rewarded with the proverbial worm, I will never get used to this practice. Never. Never, never. Never, never, never. Babe and I danced in the corner for as long as we could stand before heading to R. Thomas for organic breakfast. I don't know if the party ever got started at Calabash. For all I know, as I write this blog, it may be just now starting. (I love you, African People. But...come on!)

I love eating at R. Thomas. It was the first place that Sweets and I dined when we saw each other for the first time after six years. On this Halloween, it was packed with flappers, a male Snow White, sexy Dorothies, wounded knights and even Digital Underground's Humpty (who stopped to do the humpty dance for us as he left his table.) Here we go! This is why I love Halloween. It brings out the creative, little kids in us who can no longer get away with wearing a tutu or superhero cape to the store just because. Like hope, let's keep Halloween alive.