The Night I Screamed On Halloween

A few years ago, I told my mother about the scariest Halloween I ever had. I was with a friend from the neighborhood. She questioned whether she would have let me venture out without her at the tender age of 6, but I wasn’t alone, I reminded her. Besides, times were different then. We left our windows open all day and night during hot summer months because air conditioning was a luxury. Screens were what separated us from the outside world. Crime wasn’t something that was ever present in our minds. Heck, we left our front doors unlocked. It was a different era…

It was a chilly autumn night, that Halloween of 1958. It was my first foray out alone. Well, not really alone. I was with a classmate, Harold. We had planned on doing this, by hook or by crook, and no mothers were going to be allowed to come with us! We were out to prove we were men that night, or so I thought, as we ventured out into the early evening. Harold and I were instructed to make our rounds and come home after full darkness fell.

There were lots of other children in all sorts of costumes roaming around, stopping at most of the two story homes in our close knit community. Many were decorated and they seemed like the most inviting - the ones that would give out the best candy!

I remember watching candlelit pumpkins flicker with each eerie twist and turn throughout the neighborhood. Skeletons hung from trees and porches, swaying in the cool, gentle breezes. We spoke of ghosts and goblins and stayed away from dark alleys and back yards — not to mention the houses with no lights — because it meant they were going to grab us and take us down into the dank basement where we’d never be seen again. Or else it meant they weren’t home, but we weren’t going to take any chances.

I had a big brown double paper shopping bag to fill up. That was my mission. There were no paper or plastic options at the grocery store back then. Those were the days when milkmen left glass bottles at your doorstep and rabbit ears or rooftop antennas were the best way to watch black & white televisions. Color TV? Hahahahaha!

Harold wanted to finish the night at his house. After all, we did start at mine. I had never been there before. He lived a handful of houses up; across street from me, and when you’re only six, that’s pretty far away. I wasn’t too crazy about being almost out of sight of my own place. At that tender age, the world isn’t all that big.

Around and around the neighborhood we went. Back and forth, up and down paved streets; to the left and to the right, including places we’d never been. We visited hundreds of homes, or so it seemed. Eventually, we worked our way to his house. It was now dark and I remembered what my mother told me. We’d been out long enough and both of us had plenty of goodies to last a long time. Most importantly, it was a school night.

When we arrived, we walked up the sidewalk and climbed the stairs of his front porch. The porch light was off and it was downright sinister. Pure evil was lurking about. I knew it.

“Are you sure your parents are home?” I asked. We knocked and, in a snap, the door swung open. There stood Harold’s father.

“TRICK OR TREAT!” We screamed in unison.

“I want to see a trick,” he responded. A trick? I didn’t know what he was talking about. Saying trick or treat meant that we were going to get candy. That’s it. What was this trick thing all about?

“When you say trick or treat, I can ask you to do a trick first. Then I give you a treat. Do you have a trick for me?”

Harold and I gave each other a puzzled look and said, “Huh? Nooooo???”

“Well, then, I have a trick for you,” and just like that, his top teeth jutted far out of his mouth and quickly slid back in. I froze dead in my tracks and just stared up at him. Then… he did it again! Those teeth popped out of his face and dangled for a second before disappearing back inside his mouth.

WHOA!!! I let out a blood curdling scream that must have awakened the dead. Today, anyone within hearing range would have called 911 after hearing the panic in my voice. I turned to run but, suddenly, Harold’s mother appeared from behind the door. She quickly came out to comfort me.

“Did you see what he did? He… he…”

“Yes, yes,” she answered, as she wrapped her arms around me. Whatever his name was, she sure did scold him.

“He shouldn’t have done that.” The guy was rolling on the floor, laughing like crazy. I didn’t know what to do, but I wanted to get away from there fast. “When people’s teeth go bad, the dentist has to pull them out. Then, he gives you new ones - FALSE ONES - to chew your food and have a nice smile. They come out of your mouth and you put them back in over your toothless gums. They’re not real.” 

She turned to him and demanded an apology. Me? I was trying to figure out why a grown man didn’t have any teeth, but I was too frightened to give it much thought.

I don’t remember if he said I’m sorry or not, but I doubt it. He was still laughing, I’m sure, and I was still shaking in my boots. She said she would walk me home. I was not about ready to tremble back by myself. Not after that! When I got home, she explained the incident to my mother. What a horror! I think I sensed a snicker or two.

Anyway, I know that my mother reminded me to brush my teeth before going to bed, especially after eating candy. I do remember telling her I would never go back to that house and I never did. Before the following fall, we moved away and that was the unfortunate demise of our friendship. I never saw Harold’s father after that fateful and frightening night. When I was old enough to understand what false teeth were all about, I wondered how the father of a six-year-old boy could have lost his teeth so young. He couldn’t have been that old.

Perhaps, he ate too much candy when he was young. Maybe, just maybe, he didn’t bother to brush his teeth.

From the Court House...

I attended the hearing yesterday — the one pertaining to the release of the video deposition of a tricked out defendant in camouflage that the Morgan & Morgan law firm took on October 8. She continuously invoked her 5th Amendment right against self-incrimination, so, in essence, no reliable information came out of the deposition. Morgan & Morgan represents Zenaida Gonzalez in the civil suit against the mother of Caylee Anthony, accused of her murder and acquitted on July 5 of all charges except lying to law enforcement. She has been in hiding since her release from the Orange County Jail on July 17, and for good reason. She is one of the most hated persons in the world.

John Morgan argued that the defendant has no special rights that should prevent the video from being released under Florida’s liberal open government in the sunshine law. For the defense, Andrew Chmelir argued that there was absolutely no reason for releasing the information, and that if it were to become public, it would open his client up to greater scrutiny and hinder her right to a fair trial. Circuit Judge Lisa T. Munyon is presiding over the civil case and, after listening to both sides, she said she has 10-days to decide and will issue an order within that time frame.

Initially, I was against the lawsuit for a number of reasons. One was that Zenaida is only one of a dozen or so people in the immediate area who share the same name as the fictitious nanny named back in July of 2008 as Caylee’s kidnapper. The Zenaida represented by Morgan is the only one suing for defamation. She cites that her good name was ruined and she has been unable to work ever since. Personally, I think it is time for her to move on with her life, but at the same time, I am in agreement with the plaintiff to a certain extent. John Morgan told her from the start that there would most likely be no money forthcoming if she wins the suit because the defendant would not make money off the death of her daughter. Of course, that was prior to the verdict, when most people, including Morgan, felt she would be spending the rest of her life behind bars or sentenced to death. Since her acquittal, she has yet to capitalize on her story, and rightfully so. Public outrage is so strong, for any media outlet to touch it would surely be toxic. Besides, as Judge Stan Strickland once said, the truth and Ms. Anthony are strangers. You can’t believe a word she says. Why would any entity pay for lies?

Today, I do think that Zenaida Gonzalez deserves to have her good name back, but is it necessary to win the lawsuit in order to achieve it? I don’t know, but it wouldn’t hurt. For sure, Ms. Anthony should have been more forthright about this particular Zenaida, so in that regard, especially since Jose Baez admitted in his opening statement that Caylee was dead all along, his client could have readily dispatched this particular Zenaida and no harm would have been done.

Which way am I leaning about the release of the deposition video? Although I do not think it will hurt Ms. Anthony, I’m not sure why it should be. For one thing, I disagree with her defense’s argument that it would impede her right to a fair trial, where the case would be litigated in a courtroom, not in front of the media and under public scrutiny. After all, she can’t receive any more damage than she’s already brought upon herself, right? But on the other hand, I’m not sure one of Morgan’s arguments is all that valid. Does a law firm’s video deposition fall under the same rule of discovery as the state? In my humble opinion, I don’t think so, so how will the judge rule? I don’t have a clue, but it will be very interesting to find out. How many of us really want to see her? Be honest.

§

Why did I decide to attend the hearing? Oh, I guess it was for old time’s sake. I expected to run into some of the same people I mingled with throughout the hearings and, of course, the trial. I felt it would be very good to let everyone know about my health, too, and I was right. There were days during the trial when I looked like death warmed over. One of the deputies told me, “And then you had to run home and write about the day, only to return in the morning.” He was right, and I told him it was more than just that. I had a very disciplined and demanding editor who yelled more than Great Caesar’s ghost! at some of the things I wrote. I will admit that the experience taught me a lot about writing, thanks to him.

It was a very good day to mingle and reminisce. It was also good to re-acquaint myself with John Morgan from years ago, and he was curious about me, meaning he certainly knew who I was. To be honest, he is a very friendly and approachable sort, and extremely polite. When his son, Matt, saw us talking, he made it a point to introduce himself, too. There was no huge ego. Obviously, his mother and father brought him up right, and no doubt, he’s got a tremendous future ahead and I wish him all the best.

Finally, allow me to put one rumor to bed. According to an extremely reliable source, who shall remain nameless, Judge Strickland is relinquishing his bench for exactly the reason he stated. After 16 years, he wants out. He wants to help his wife with her business. This has absolutely nothing to do with any sort of investigation into how he handled the issue with the “blogger” named Marinade Dave or his statements made after the trial on Nancy Grace. Yes, WFTV hinted that there may just be an investigation, but my source was quick to point out that Channel 9 is the first and biggest one to sensationalize the news. Anything for ratings.

Rest assured, there is no investigation and Judge Strickland had every right to say anything he wanted after the trial ended. Besides, he already knew by then that he was going to retire. The decision was something he gave much thought to. This is a judge who so richly deserves a huge round of applause from all of us. I am honored to know him.

I will be away from my computer for several hours today. If you get caught in moderation, I will let you out when I can - later today.

No Ordinary Joe

I do not have lung cancer!

I plan on writing more about it here, but I am prepping myself for tomorrow’s colonoscopy (and endoscopy), if you get my drift. Needless to say, I’m spending less time at my computer and more time in the… well, never mind.

Anyway, it was great news today! Thank you for all your thoughts and prayers. The reason why I’ll need to explain it is simple. This is what the report states:

LUNG PARENCHYMA WITH MILD PNEUMOCYTE HYPERPLASIA, ANTHRACOSIS, INTRA-ALVEOLAR PIGMENTED MICROPHAGES, AND SMALL FOCI OF INTRA-ALVEOLAR FIBROSIS CONSISTENT WITH RESOLVING INFLAMMATORY PROCESS.

NEGATIVE FOR ACUTE INFLAMMATION. GRANULOMA. NEOPLASIA.

That’s not so simple.

Jobs Well Done

I watched a movie online the other day that was filmed in Ireland. I didn’t recognize one of the vehicles, so I Googled Irish cars and came up with nothing, as I suspected, but one of the search results led me to a question about the positioning of floor pedals, particularly with regard to left and right side driving, meaning which side the steering wheel is on. Do the pedals change positions? No, they don’t. It’s CBA the world over - Clutch, Brake, Accelerator, left to right. Some things never change. Some things do. Sometimes, it’s for the better.

Left-side and right-side driving made me think again about living in a right-handed world when I am quite left-handed. Of course, left-handed people must learn to adapt, and the older I’ve gotten, the more adept I’ve become, but it still doesn’t go without notice. There will forever be minor issues, all of which right-handed people take for granted every day.

As many of you know by now, I spent years in the design trade before transitioning into writing. I still like to dabble in design work, and in most cases, I do it gratis to help out friends or friends of friends. Since I am a creative sort, I use more of the right side of my brain than some, such as mathematicians, logicians and the like who conceptualize more in algorithms and computations. That’s from the left-side. It’s more of a black & white world, where mine is more in shades of gray and multiple colors. I have always thought more abstractly. Think different, so to speak. God knows, that describes me to a “T”.

When I moved to the Orlando area in 1981, I quickly got a job working for an advertising agency. I did everything by hand while sitting comfortably at my rather large art board. By the late 80s, rumors began floating that very much startled me and the others I worked with. To be blunt, I was afraid of change. We were going to swap in our art boards and conventional methods of design for brand-spanking new computers. I had absolutely no knowledge of the intimidating gizmos that were supposed to simplify our jobs, and I had no idea how I would adjust. I mean, the way we plodded our trade had been done the same way for thousands of years, with adjustments, of course, but a t-square has been around a long time, for instance. This was going to be one giant change I wasn’t quite ready for, but I didn’t have much of a choice. Besides, I was never one to walk away from a new way of thinking. Think different, after all.

In 1990, I sat in front of my first computer. It was a Macintosh. Wow! This is like playing Space Invaders and I’m getting paid to do it, was my first thought. In other words, while initially apprehensive, I found this new tool to be something I could learn to understand and love, and I quickly warmed up to it. It grew on me. It came with desktop publishing software called Aldus PageMaker, and the newspaper layouts that normally took an hour to create were condensed to about 15-minutes. Those of us who acclimated well became more productive and within a month’s time, I had that computer saying “I’m sorry, Dave, I’m afraid you can’t do that” whenever someone made an error or hit the wrong key. Once I grasped the world of computers, I never looked back. Today marks 21-years of experience in front of a keyboard and I have only one person to thank - Steve Jobs.

While Bill Gates and Microsoft ventured into the fray of consumer-friendly operating systems, meaning personal computers, in 1992, Windows 3.1 was never close to what Apple started in 1984 with the advent of the Mac OS. Mac was the first to use a completely graphical operating system instead of a command line. Remember those days of DOS commands? C:\enter. Macs were a dream, and they weren’t prone to crashing. Mac was completely user friendly and that’s what made my switch from the art board to a computer so smooth. I compared Mac to Windows operating systems as the difference between cutting through soft or hard butter. In those early days, I fell in love with Mac computers and it’s a love that’s never left me.

Today, Mac computers still have the edge in the graphic design business, but Windows has come a long, long way. As stable as Mac OS has been, Windows 7 is just about as good, so why would I continue to give Mac the edge? The answer is simple, because, no matter what, Windows has always played catch-up to Mac. So has the rest of the world, and for that, I give credit to Steve Jobs for what he did with his creation - Apple. From the mouse on up to the iPad, of which I am a proud owner, it was Jobs who had much to do with what we take for granted today. The first smart phone was an Apple. The rest of the tech-world scrambled. That’s what Jobs did. He was a creative genius and a visionary, able to design and market, and if I could only harness 10% of his mind, I would be one, too. That’s not going to happen, so instead, all I can do is say, thank you, Steve. While some things never change, you dramatically changed the world and the way we think. Thank you for making art, design, writing, and every day living easier for me. You were Apple. You were Mac. You dreamed in black, white, shades of gray, and every color in the rainbow.

While the more the world changes, the more it remains the same, I’m glad you got to see the life altering changes you made, and like Thomas Edison, you will live on in perpetuity because of it. And that’s something that will never change.

Amazing Time Lapse Video

This was sent to me by a Facebook friend. It’s a beautiful and inspirational video, and I think you will seriously enjoy it.

Landscapes: Volume Two from Dustin Farrell on Vimeo.

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