6- The Oakville Beaver Weekend, Saturday October 4, 2008 www.oakvillebeaver.com The Oakville Beaver 467 Speers Rd., Oakville Ont. L6K 3S4 (905) 845-3824 Fax: 337-5567 Classified Advertising: 905-632-4440 Circulation: 845-9742 The Oakville Beaver is a member of the Ontario Press Council. The council is located at 80 Gould St., Suite 206, Toronto, Ont., M5B 2M7. Phone (416) 340-1981. Advertising is accepted on the condition that, in the event of a typographical error, that portion of advertising space occupied by the erroneous item, together with a reasonable allowance for signature, will not be charged for, but the balance of the advertisement will be paid for at the applicable rate.The publisher reserves the right to categorize advertisements or decline. Editorial and advertising content of the Oakville Beaver is protected by copyright. Unauthorized use is prohibited. Commentary Letters to the editor NEIL OLIVER Vice President and Group Publisher MARK DILLS Director of Production DAVID HARVEY General Manager MANUEL GARCIA Production Manager JILL DAVIS Editor in Chief CHARLENE HALL Director of Distribution ROD JERRED Managing Editor ALEXANDRIA ANCHOR Circ. Manager DANIEL BAIRD Advertising Director WEBSITE oakvillebeaver.com RIZIERO VERTOLLI Photography Director The Oakville Beaver is a division of SANDY PARE Business Manager IAN OLIVER President Metroland Media Group Ltd. includes: Ajax/Pickering News Advertiser, Alliston Herald/Courier, Arthur Enterprise News, Barrie Advance, Caledon Enterprise, Brampton Guardian, Burlington Post, Burlington Shopping News, City Parent, Collingwood/Wasaga Connection, East York Mirror, Erin Advocate/Country Routes, Etobicoke Guardian, Flamborough Review, Georgetown Independent/Acton Free Press, Harriston Review, Huronia Business Times, Lindsay This Week, Markham Economist & Sun, Midland/Penetanguishine Mirror, Milton Who is Halloween for today? Fall is here again and I find myself asking the same question again: who is Halloween for anyway? I'm a mother of two small children and have been teaching kindergarten for almost a dozen years now. When I was growing up, Halloween was a fun night for younger kids to put on a costume (something tame like a cowboy or a princess) and hit the neighbours up for some candy. Things have certainly changed. I know more and more parents who are boycotting Halloween (unheard of in our day.) Their reasons? It's mutated into something way too scary. Six weeks before the big night, the candy, costumes, and "decorations" hit the stores. When we were kids, if you were handing out candy, you carved a pumpkin, put it out, and left your porch light on. Now, the decorations range from silly to downright horrifying. I was in a store the other day and watched a mother leave her intended purchases to take her two year old out of the store screaming crying because she was terrified by one of the displays. I know moms who can't go into some stores this time of year for the same reason -- the stuff is too much for their kids. Have we become too desensitized or just too insensitive to realize what hanging corpses, snarling witches, and demon faces must look like to a small child? Put them on your house and play a tape of scary sound effects on Halloween night and it's no wonder parents are keeping their children at home. Last year we went out in a group, kids and parents, and had to literally double back on streets because kids would freeze in their footsteps at the sight of some of the decorating. After this happened a few times, we shook our heads and headed home. Easier to just buy your kids some candy and spare them from having nightmares. Then there are the costumes-- it seems for many, the gorier the better. If it's about violence, blood, guts, and death, then it must be good, right? Where did this notion come from? The video game industry? Hollywood? The media? All of the above? So, many people have not only chosen not to go out on Halloween, but not to hand out on Halloween either. No point in keeping your kids inside to avoid the gore if the doorbell is going to ring and some kid dripping in fake blood with an axe in his head and an eyeball hanging out is going to be standing there. It seems so bizarre. You have a child waiting to enjoy the bag of candies and treats he's collected while dressed convincingly as the victim of a brutal slaying. So, again I wonder who is Halloween for these days? Has it become the domain of the adults who unwittingly keep little ones away with grueseome decorating and trick-or-treaters who have become immune to the images of death, violence, and horror? It would seem so. How disappointing that so many other children don't get to enjoy the Halloweens of our youth that were about dress-up, candy, and fun. For them, the event's just a nightmare. INGRID KERRIGAN Media Group Ltd. Canadian Champion, Milton Shopping News, Mississauga Business Times, Mississauga News, Napanee Guide, Newmarket/Aurora EraBanner, Northumberland News, North York Mirror, Oakville Beaver, Oakville Shopping News, Oldtimers Hockey News, Orillia Today, Oshawa/Whitby/Clarington Port Perry This Week, Owen Sound Tribune, Palmerston Observer, Peterborough This Week, Picton County Guide, Richmond Hill/Thornhill/Vaughan Liberal, Scarborough Mirror, Stouffville/Uxbridge Tribune, Forever Young, City of York Guardian RECOGNIZED FOR EXCELLENCE BY: Ontario Community Newspapers Association Canadian Community Newspapers Association Suburban Newspapers of America THE OAKVILLE BEAVER IS PROUD OFFICIAL MEDIA SPONSOR FOR: United Way of Oakville TV AUCTION He's fallen out of love, but breaking up is still hard to do I t's over. I've fallen out of love. I'm breaking up. But, I'm hoping -- and I'm not just saying this -- that we can still be friends. I didn't always love Toronto. When I first moved there, the city intimidated, overwhelmed and alienated. For a young and naïve, small-town transplant, it was constant culture shock, a bombardment: the continual clamour, crush of people, frenetic pace of life, all enough to rattle my bones, fray my nerves and leave me pining for escape. The size of the city alone, combined with my lousy sense of direction, guaranteed I spent most of every day lost. I lived in a moribund highrise, redolent of desperation and day-old fast food, which overlooked a depressing Dickensian stretch of cityscape. Middle-of-the-night fire alarms routinely rousted tired tenants. Birds regularly committed suicide by crashing into the highrise's windows. Once my girlfriend nearly burned down the building, but that's a tale for another time. Still, I hung in there. Because I was working at the job of my young dreams, I gave Toronto a chance. In time, I began to find my way around. I scoured the streets by streetcar, subway, in my beatup car and on foot. I toured the touristy destinations, I hit hotspots and sampled the nightlife. I became acclimatized. I allowed the city to seep into my skin. Then my girlfriend and I relocated to High Park, a picturesque pocket of the big city that fondly reminded me of my small hometown -- and from that home base I gradually fell in love with The Big Smoke. In time, I got married. My wife and I immersed ourselves in the city, often intoxicated and rendered giddy by all it had to offer. A Blue Jays game under an azure sky. A night at Harbourfront, Andy Juniper entranced by John Irving reading from an unreleased manuscript. Wandering through Yorkville on a summer night, a drink at an outdoor patio, people-watching. A concert at an intimate venue. Warming up on an icy afternoon in an art gallery. Dining out in a city where options are unlimited. Lazy walks and vigourous jogs through High Park. So why did we leave the city behind? A simple matter of economics. We had a baby, we wanted out of our apartment and into a house, but could not find an affordable matchbox in the city. So we moved to Oakville and, later, to a country property. Still, we were forever finding ourselves back in Toronto for one reason or another; I guess we were still in love with all the city offered. And that love remained strong until recently. It started to wane, I guess, in the grip of gridlock. Gridlock: once an unpleasant anomaly, suddenly a daily reality. We had a dinner downtown: it took us 2.5 hours to get there and two hours to get home; we could have eaten in Ottawa. We went to a Jays game, left home two hours before game time, and missed the first three innings. Gridlock: no one going anywhere, fast. Then came visits to other cities, cities Toronto could well have grown up to be. Like Chicago where the waterfront is big, bold, wild and wonderful, and where a visitor can actually see, well, the water. No ugly architecture blocking nature's beauty. Finally, there came the gunshots, perilously close to where our eldest offspring was working in a Yonge Street retail outlet. A fluke. Danger can exist anywhere; danger can lurk around the quietest corner of the sleepiest town. Then, last week, another eruption of gunfire, this time right on our son's street, metres from his doorstep. Way too close for comfort, way too close to home. I'm sorry, Toronto, but it's over. I've fallen out of love. Here's to hoping that we can still be friends. Andy Juniper can be visited at his Web site, www.strangledeggs.com, or contacted at ajuniper@strangledeggs.com.