Welcome to Spooky SZN. Let's meet the team.
An exclusive interview with the inhabitants of that *one* neighbor's yard. PLUS: SOUP SZN, a fall cocktail, books, music, pets + more!
[dramatically tears page off of desktop Far Side page-a-day calendar]
Huzzah! It's October 1st!
[realizes I was a day behind, quietly tears off additional page]
Ah. October 2nd. Still good!
Friends, we've reached my absolute favorite month of the year. October has everything: cooler weather, lower humidity, Cleveland Guardians playoff baseball, decorative gourds, apple cider, hayrides, chili cookoffs, meaningful college football... and, of course, at the very end, Halloween.
I enjoy Halloween quite a bit, but some people really get into the spirit. Every neighborhood has that one house that goes all-in, covering every inch of their front lawn with Spooky SZN decor. I've always wondered about these tableaus, and so I decided to conduct a series of interviews.
–with the homeowners?
Oh, no. God no. I don't want to talk to them at all.
No, I'm going straight for the real subject.
AC: Thank you for agreeing to speak with me today.
GIANT SKELETON: Yeah, sure. It's not like I'm going anywhere.
AC: Right, because you're–
GIANT SKELETON: On house arrest.
AC: Oh.
GIANT SKELETON: I'm kidding. That's a joke. See, people don't think giant yard skeletons can have a sense of humor.
AC: You sound frustrated.
GIANT SKELETON: Of course I'm frustrated! I've been standing out here all summer, and it's been hot as hell. One of my feet melted a couple of weeks ago!
AC: Wait, I thought you were a Halloween decoration?
GIANT SKELETON: I am a Halloween decoration! Only problem is, I cost three hundred dollars. When people spend that kind of money on a seasonal yard accoutrement, eventually they're going to think "you know, that's a lot of money to spend on something we're only going to use one month a year," and then they start coming up with excuses to leave you out all year round.
AC: Don't you welcome that, though? It's better than sitting in the garage 11 months a year.
GIANT SKELETON: My tailbone it is! You should see the things they're doing to me. They dressed me up like a leprechaun in March, and the Statue of Liberty in July. Last Christmas, they made me into an elf!
AC: That sounds festive.
GIANT SKELETON: It's degrading, and besides, it doesn't even make sense. Elves are supposed to be short.
REGULAR-SIZED SKELETON: YOU'RE NOT THE RIGHT SIZE ANYWAYS.
GIANT SKELETON: [sighing] this again.
REGULAR-SIZED SKELETON: Oh, he's complaining now. Mr. Life of the Party has a problem with me pointing out his scientific inaccuracy!
GIANT SKELETON: We've been over this. It's a creative exaggeration.
REGULAR-SIZED SKELETON #2: It's an outrage, is what it is!
REGULAR-SIZED SKELETON #1: We had a comfortable place in the Halloween decoration, science classroom and/or quirky teen movie protagonist's bedroom ecosystem for decades. Then this big dope shows up, and suddenly we're relegated to peripheral set-dressing!
REGULAR-SIZED SKELETON #3: The other day, a kid walking by with his mom called us "the little skeletons". We're not little, we're realistic! Realism is way scarier than a guy who's so big he needs a support line tied to the gutter to stay standing up.
REGULAR-SIZED SKELETON #2: Besides, we're bigger than you, kid.
REGULAR-SIZED SKELETON #1: The only way we get attention now is if the homeowner sets up some kind of ironic scene with us. We have to be tailgating or playing pickleball or something silly.
GIANT FELT SPIDER: At least you're not stuck climbing a bush.
BEDSHEET GHOST: I've been stuck in the branch of this tree for a week! It's very uncomfortable, and I can't scare anyone like this!
REGULAR-SIZED SKELETON #2: Yeah. That's why you're not scary.
INFLATABLE BLACK CAT: None of you are scary. Spiders get squashed. Ghosts get exorcised. Skeletons can't walk around without muscles or tendons or a nervous system. Me? I'm a terrifyingly real omen, a universal portent of bad luck.
GIANT FELT SPIDER: You're powered by a small electric fan.
BEDSHEET GHOST: When the timer clicks off, you deflate.
INFLATABLE BLACK CAT: Okay, but... that's kind of scary, too, right?
PLASTIC GRINCH: I'm not even supposed to be out here. I'm a Christmas character.
BEDSHEET GHOST: I thought you were some kind of green ape.
PLASTIC GRINCH: I mean, I might be. I'm not totally clear on the canon. But I'm not a Halloween thing at all.
GIANT SKELETON: It's just an exhausting bunch to be around for an entire month, as you can see. They do raise a real issue we face, though: a lack of focus. I mean, what kind of display is this? Are we supposed to be scary, or just festive? Is there even an ethos to any of this? We just want clarity, and maybe to frighten a few of the more irritating neighborhood children.
VOICE FROM AROUND THE SIDE OF THE HOUSE: THE HOUR OF CLEANSING HAS COME.
GIANT SKELETON: Who said that?
VOICE: MAKE PEACE, FOR YOUR TIME DRAWS SHORT!
PLASTIC GRINCH: Was that the cat?
INFLATABLE BLACK CAT: [deflating] wasn't me
VOICE: A THOUSAND YEARS OF TERROR BEGINS WITH A SINGLE NIGHT OF RECKONING!
BEDSHEET GHOST: okay, that's actually kind of scary.
GIANT FELT SPIDER: guys, quit joking around, I don't like this.
VOICE: BLOOD WILL RAIN FROM THE SKIES. THE DEAD WILL RISE AND THE LIVING WILL ENVY THEM!
REGULAR-SIZED SKELETON #1: [nervously] guys let's go play pickleball in the neighbors' yard until this blows over
GIANT SKELETON: Okay, this isn't funny. Whoever's saying these things, show yourself!
VOICE, NOW BOOMING: ALL WILL PERISH AT THE HANDS OF THE DESTRUCTOR.
CANDY CORN CORGI: [facing giant skeleton] ARE YOU A GOD?
GIANT SKELETON: [pulling on elf costume] I am late for my shift at the toy shop is what I am.
Friends, it's Friday again at The Action Cookbook Newsletter.
I could not be happier to be ushering in October, my favorite month of the year, and I'm doing so today with a fully-loaded slate of ACBN-Certified Good Things for your weekend ahead. Today, that includes the opening salvo of CROCKTOBER, an absolutely delicious fall cocktail, some great music, a good book, pets and more!
That's all below the break.
And for those about to crock–I salute you.
