Faced with a passel of activity keeping me away from my keyboard (casino volunteer? Why!?!?!?), I found myself faced with an agonizing choice. Either do a blog about the upcoming COP3037 enviro conference and bafflegab or recycle one of my favourite types of blogs, the infamous trick or treating guide for us fellow travellers on my journey of cynicism.
The COP blog holds a lot of appeal if I’m being honest, because these US sponsored sessions are just so painfully earnest and represent the peak of enviro-hypocricy as literally thousands of government (taxpayer) paid do-gooders descend on some unsuspecting emerging or third world vacation hotspot for a week or two of Very Important Plenary SessionsTM and gourmet food.
This year it is in Brazil, at some city on the edge of the Amazon Rain Forest that is at the forefront of the battle against climate change. While it’s unfortunate they had to cut down acres of rain forest and relocate a bunch of poor people to hold the conference, I guess it will all be worth if they get to accuse Canada of wanting to destroy the world.
But, come on. How often does my blog fall on the actual day? This Friday is of course Halloween Day!
So my choice is pre-ordained. So I will cop-out and do the environmentally responsible thing and reduce, re-use and recycle.
First off, since it is Halloween, I get to do this in costume since, as we all know, everyone, I mean everyone, is dressed up. Right? You are dressed up, right? I can’t be the only one…
But I digress, while dressed up, I get to take pot-shots at any and all and no one is the wiser on who I am. It’s great. I mean, who can get mad at some dude dressed as Elmo saying your political beliefs are trash? It’s genius!
And the way I choose to do this is through my annual trick or treating trip around the proverbial neighbourhood. It’s a Halloween tradition.
First a refresher, for the old timers like me.
Who remembers trick or treating back in the day? Running around the neighbourhood like the hyperactive sugar-mainlining little twerps we all were, stomping on old Mrs. McGillicuddy’s flowers, tearing from house to house, especially the house that gave out full chocolate bars and regular-sized bags of Hickory Sticks (that’s my house BTW)? Avoiding the houses that had candy corn and those caramels that were only good for removing loose teeth, ringing the bell at the dark house just in case and generally plotting with friends about all the ones you were going to hit, many of which had nicknames? Well, that’s what we’re doing today, folks.
A little trick or treating in my favourite energized and politicized neighbourhood. US/Canada Trade war or not, Election or not, inflation or not, war or not, energy crisis or not, business case or not… we are making the rounds, ringing the bells and when that is done, I’m going home to avoid giving kids candy.
And as luck would have it, it’s been an eventful year and we have had a lot of change to our neighbourhood, with carpetbaggers and grifters coming from all over to set up occupancy in our lovely subdivision. Some are welcome. Some are odd. Some should have stayed where they were.
The Saudi House – Everyone knows this house. It’s the biggest house on the block and the fence is made of gold. It’s one of the first ones all the kids go to just in case they run out, which never happens, because they have the biggest candy reserves in the world and always hold some back in reserve. There are always fancy cars parked out front (no EV’s, sorry Elon) and they set the tone for a lot of the other wannabes in the neighbourhood. A couple of years ago they were all about making deals with Biden House to increase the amount of candy they were giving away, but this year they seem to have their eye on Trump house and its ballroom where a rocking party is happening. Most years they also give cash, targeting somewhere between $85 and $95 per trick or treater. This year it feels closer to $60. And every few years they just open to doors and give away everything to maximize their visits, just to remind the neighbourhood who is boss.
The Russia House – Let’s face it, anything from this place is bound to be a trick. This is the only house in recorded history that ACTUALLY gave out an apple with a razor blade in it – three years in a row. Whether it’s talking about handing out less candy but then giving you a handful, stealing people’s mail or pirating your wifi, this is the house that everyone avoids because it’s weird, creepy and the bald guy who lives there is never wearing a shirt which scares all the kids. Plus, they have a bear. And then there is that ongoing property line dispute with Ukraine House that has actually gotten violent in the last couple of years. Most of the kids avoid this house and their parents won’t allow them to go. Rumour has it that one kid went there last year and mysteriously fell out a basement window.
Ukraine House – This house is next to Russia House and as referenced above they share a fence that Russia keeps trying to move. Under constant pressure from the Russia House this house shouldn’t have the time to do banal things like hand out candy, plus they seem poor, but they sure do their best. A lot of their candy has been donated by pretty much everyone on the block except China and Russia and the short man who answers the door in his green t-shirt always seems to be good for a joke, rumour has it he was once a comedian of some fame. There is some confusion about their garage though, as the bald Russian guy next door keeps trying to park his Lada in it.
Doug Ford House – This house is owned by a jovial if somewhat oversized cartoon character who seems intent on at once currying favour with everyone, enriching anyone he meets and at the same time doing really dumb things like putting up a billboard that says “No More Free Stuff Because my Neighbours are grifting scum”. Then he wonders why no one invites him to the block parties and barbecues. This year, the Ford House is giving away bottles of Crown Royal, because why not.
Freddie Freeman House – Too soon?!?!?! Fine.
Danielle Smith House – It’s fair to say that this “new old kid on the block” is the house all the kids want to get out of the way as early as possible, since no one seems to know what to make of this one. The windows in this house are covered in foil, we’re told it’s to keep out Bill Gates’s radio signals and chem trails, but the lights are on, which says fair game for trick or treaters. When the door gets opened, there is a friendly looking lady in front of you, but something feels off – she seems a bit… intense. Upon hearing “trick or treat” she gives everyone some expired Turkish cough syrup and some promotional material for something called an Alberta Pension Plan and tells the kids that it’s OK to skip their vaccines and not tell their parents. Notwithstanding that, she claims to like kids and education but doesn’t want to pay for it, because she loaned some of her tonier friends money so their kids could go to private school. Hang around too long and she starts talking about how she’s be better off if she was separate from the neighbourhood. Backing away slowly while she rants, all you can hope is that maybe next year she will be a bit less crazy, or at least get some real treats – we really aren’t that fussy. Just be normal.
Trump House (formerly known as Mar-A-Lago) – This is the giant, gold-gilded, glitzy place you go to if you want to get “Yuge” chocolate bars and regular-sized bags of chips. Except on closer inspection, you realize that you have low quality Made in China, tariff exempt waxy mini-bars and “Chipz” made from soy beans that not even the local dollar store will stock. Combine that with the crazy old man with the orange make-up and terrifying combover who yells at you from inside, tells off-colour jokes and offers to share his half-eaten KFC with you, it’s easy to see why this place gets less popular as the night wears on. Late arrivers often see the man sitting in an enormous gold chair furiously typing into his smartphone. God help anyone who gets suckered into a trick which is where the crazy old man drags you inside and makes you read his pen pal mail from some guy named Elmo or tells you nuclear launch codes or claims he has classified documents that detail who killed JFK. It’s considered a win at this house if you get a tariff-free gold ball, but be prepared to have to pay 10%, 55% or even 67.5% to leave.
Clinton Manor – Oy, well sure maybe there are treats here, but it’s that weird and awkward run-down house where the earnest old lady lives (who may or may not have a husband, but for sure has a cat) who tries to make too much awkward conversation about how she used to be “a big deal” before eventually giving you a precisely allocated single candy (usually a nougat or Werthers) and maybe a few pennies or a toothbrush. Plus, through the open door, the house smells vaguely of some kind of slow cooking food (if you’ve ever had a paper route and had to collect money, you know the smell). Regardless, you don’t mind stopping by because you just know she’s lonely as can be and wants to stay relevant in the neighbourhood, so much so that each kid receives a reminder that she has a podcast.
Biden House – Free Hugs! The guy who lives there is old and a bit weird – he smells hair and moves awkwardly – but it seems like his heart is in the right place and he uses words like “son of a gun” and “malarkey” so you feel obligated to stick around and have an old-timey conversation with him. His candy choices are a bit dated – candy corn, taffy, and bags of popcorn – but he does play a video loop of him falling off a bike which I suppose is good for a laugh.
Next door to Trump House is the gaudy post-Modern Elon House which the kids simply call the X House. Clearly owned by some self-involved rich dude, it has a news reel playing on an outside monitor celebrating his company’s many achievements. It is also the only house with a rocket on the lawn and the giant lit up X on the roof can be seen for miles. Another distinguishing feature is the crowd of people constantly gathered around the X house yelling at each other and endless parade of what appear to be Russian sex robots telling anyone who will pay attention that they like them. It’s all so confusing. On top of all that, you have to pay $8 to get anyone to pay attention to you and just like last year, all trick or treaters got were share certificates of Twitter.
Carney House – This house is a fairly new house. The owner used to be a banker or something? Clearly he was a big deal, because you can see through the living room window a bunch of books entitled “Central Banking for Dummies” and “Government Deficits Made Easy.” The last time anyone went by this house, visitors were chased away and given detailed instructions for off-shore tax-sheltering. This time, he seems to reluctantly accept that he is now in the spotlight and actually has to deliver for the kids. Fortunately, he recently went to the bank for a line of credit and his banker forgot to cap his line of credit so he has access to literally unlimited funds. Kids get what this means, and they will be all over this house until it gets shut down by the authorities.
Crypto House – this place is filled with flashing lights and super-caffeinated post-millenials and Generation Z get-rich-quick schemers. If you can’t fill up your Unicef digital wallet here with at least 100 Fart Coins, you’re a rookie. It’s only when you leave that you notice that house is built with playing cards on a sink hole, but you have your NFT of some wannabe influencer posing with an Instagram model so whatever, right? You’re in the money. For now. Looking back, you realize that the house was easily twice the size last year.
ICE House – OK, under no circumstances should you ever go there. It’s definitely a trick. They don’t have candy and the masks are not costumes. Who wears a bullet proof vest on Halloween? And the guy who opens the door? He’s about as creepy as you can get. A cross between Dr. Evil and Groot come to life. I don’t even think they bothered getting candy this year, just tear gas.
Permian House – this place used to be where the energy was – party central with music and lights going at all hours. All the kids in the neighbourhood wanted a piece of whatever was going on and the line-ups were always huge. This year the candy bowl is empty and the dude who answers the door in his bathrobe says they are trying to save money and all they can do is buy back candy they gave you in prior years. They say it’s all Biden House’s fault. Which is weird because the Biden you visited doesn’t seem like he could hurt, let alone recognize, a fly. As you sadly turn away you notice that someone has emptied your treat bag and stolen all the Fartcoin you got from the Crypto house. You also notice that far from being empty, Permian House has moved all of its stuff into the garage where no one can see it and a small yet intense party is still happening. Then they push you away and close the door.
Trudeau House – we all know this place. It’s the one that tries too hard. Too many decorations, lights, skeletons, the whole nine yards. Every time the bell rings, the owner in full costume jumps out from behind a bush and more likely than not proceeds to take a selfie and compliment you effusively about how great you look and how awesome Halloween is before retreating back to his hiding spot to lie in wait for the next unsuspecting kid who comes along. This year, it feels like he isn’t even trying since when you ring the bell Katy Perry comes to the door and gives you a key-chain with a shark on it.
Poilievre House – this house felt like it could have some promise, even though there is a giant 18-wheeler parked in the driveway. The dude who answers the door is kinda nerdy and intense but appears to have a decent sense of humour. However, all that goodwill goes out the window when he gives you a two-foot long piece of a 2×4 and when you call him on it he yells at you about justinflation that the piece of wood is actually worth “triple triple triple” what he paid for it. Then he suddenly cackles loudly and out of the blue throws an axe at his immediate neighbour Trudeau House and yells “axe that shit Justin!”. Realizing you have stepped into the middle of some crazy neighbourhood feud you warn all your friends away. As you step away, you see the dude sitting on his stoop, head in hands, sobbing loudly and hear him say – “Man, I miss that guy, I was my best when he was here. Who ditches me for Katy Perry?”.
Oil Sands House – this house was the place to be and be seen way back about ten years ago but now seems strangely forgotten and unloved. Back in the day, it was almost as madcap as the Permian House down the block, but now it is much more reserved. You can still get some pretty good loot there, they are just slower to hand it over and it’s accompanied by a small lecture about how they weren’t being paid as much as everyone else and how that is unfair. That said, if you look around, you will notice a brand new electric vehicle in the garage, a smiling banker in the driveway and a trench dug between this house and Pipeline house. Something is going on. But please, for the love of God. Do. Not. Swim. In. The. Pool.
Quebec House – This house is confusing because all the signs are in French, but if you are patient, you will be rewarded by a steaming to-go package of… poutine, rotisserie chicken and smoked meat sandwiches? Really? Oh well. At least this year they aren’t lecturing us about separation and not wanting fossil fuels and… Oh wait… I’ve just been reliably informed that this is precisely their intent.
Natural Gas House – Everyone knows this house. It’s the one that starts the crazy rumours that this is the year they will have the dominant candy drop on the street. Big chocolates, bags of chips, you name it. Fabulous decorations. Then, by the time you get to it, the porch light is off, no one is home and there is a Tupperware bowl full of those horrible toffee candies with the wax wrappers and a sign saying: “please take one only”. Except this year. This year is going to be different I swear. Big bags of loot! All you can eat! Riches and moneys galore! You’ll see! Really.
Environment house – this is the house that the hipster environmental couple rents. They have two vehicles, a Subaru wagon with a bike rack and a subsidized Tesla SUV. There’s a Greenpeace sign in the window. Stephen Guilbeault once rented this house on Air BnB. Used to be these two were always away at important conferences, then they went to Zoom because of the pandemic but now all bets are off and off to Brazil they go for COP’ocricy. Due to supply chain issues and tariffs, this year they were unable to source their usual free-trade organic hemp and stevia candies that you would usually toss into their xeriscaped garden, so instead every trick or treater gets a cup of mushroom tea, a bath bomb and an EV subsidy.
Alberta House – this used to be my house, but now it appears it’s occupied by squatters. No one is actually sure what is going on in this house anymore. They don’t have any candy, but the lights are on. There are a bunch of guys sitting on the porch on their phones, drinking whiskey and sending out mean tweets. Inside there are another bunch of guys that actually want to hand out candy but can’t decide if all they should hand out is the same old stuff from years past or some of the great new stuff they have. There is a debate of some kind trying to decide if they should keep the candy for themselves or let someone else hand it out. A sub-group wants to know who all these freeloaders are who want candy. A neighbourhood survey says less than 25% of kids are even thinking of stopping at this house. Another group can’t decide if boys or girls should get the same candy or if it’s none of their damn business. Yet another group calling themselves “Take Back Alberta House” is secretly plotting to rule the house but they seem more than a little unhinged. Another group wants to separate the House from the neighbourhood. One can be forgiven for deciding that by the time they figure out what they’re doing, most of the kids have already passed them by and trick or treating is done.
My House – full sized chocolate bars, full bags of hickory sticks (in theory, still waiting on Amazon to deliver them). A warm welcome for anyone who comes by and if you’re lucky some whiskey, a glass of wine and steaks off the grill. Maybe a little discussion about sports and low level complaining about my underperforming portfolio. Politics if you want. Free lessons on how to run an AGM and why community volunteering is only good for masochists. Views of secret development plans and theatre tickets. Kids coming and going, a couple of cats. Come on by anytime, you don’t need Halloween as an excuse. Costume is mandatory. Abuse will not be tolerated.
Happy pumpkin day one and all! See you around the neighbourhood.
