The Butterfly Effect

It is November 12. One of the local radio stations has already begun its 24 hour a day Christmas music broadcasting. They started on November 1. They were champing at the bit for Halloween to end so they could justify their pushing of yuletide cheer on us. I’ll admit, I do flip it to that station on occasion every year. It helps me get in the mood. But that usually doesn’t happen until sometime after Thanksgiving.

And then it happened. I could blame it on visitation schedules with the kids. I could say that we won’t have them all together for a weekend of tree decorating until well after Thanksgiving, when the Christmas season is already in full swing. But I won’t put that on them.

No, I blame “Big Christmas.” They are forcing the buying season on us earlier each year. It used to be that everyone waited until Black Friday, when that jolly elf would appear, to start cramming holiday cheer down our throats. And we accepted it. It was time.

A few years ago, I noticed that as the Halloween decorations were being moved to the clearance section, a small spattering of Christmas decorations would appear in a back corner. Biding their time to be moved to the forefront. I didn’t like it. It was infringing upon that wonderful day of giving thanks and turkey gluttony. “Can’t we at least get through the next holiday before moving on to Christmas?” I would ask every year. The answer was no.

Now, Halloween has barely arrived and that small spattering of Christmas decorations has become a large spattering, butted up against the ghostly pagan decorations. At the rate we are going, in 3 years, the Christmas season will begin as the Fourth of July paraphernalia starts to disappear.

I gave up. I gave in. This happened. On November 11. There was no avoiding it. No turning back.

The line between Christmas and Halloween has been blurred

It was not without consequences, however. For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. I walked outside this morning and this is what I saw. I feel I must apologize to you all. To the world, if I must. But this is what we have done as a society. We have no one to blame but ourselves.

Trick or…wait. What?

I was driving the girls to school this morning. Just like every other day. As usual, there were the normal groups of neighbors out for a walk. Most of them with their dogs. An ordinary fall day. Then I saw it.

As I was nearing my turn to exit the neighborhood, it appeared out of nowhere. I have no idea what it was doing in this bleak suburban area. But there was no denying it. A giraffe. You read that correctly. Standing by the side of the road was the shortest giraffe I have ever seen. Maybe 6 feet tall. But a giraffe nonetheless.

I did a double take. There is no way a giraffe would be roaming our neighborhood. Squirrels, definitely. Coyotes, sure, why not. But a giraffe? I couldn’t believe my eyes.

There is a reason I don’t trust my brain. He’s anunderhanded jerk. He’s proven it time and time again. And I fall for it every time.

When I looked back, there was no giraffe. There was simply a man taking out his trash. A man I’m sure I have probably seen many times on my travels. I laughed out loud at myself and started to comment on how stupid I was.

The 13-year-old asked what I was doing. I explained. It’s not like they expect much different from me, as it is. “Was he wearing orange or something?” she asked. No. No he was not. No orange. No brown, either. He was wearing a grey shirt with a blue or black jacket over it. Nothing that would even closely resemble a giraffe. At least not the giraffes I have seen anywhere. My jerkhole of a brain, however, had me convinced there was some sort of zoological jailbreak that should probably be dealt with by those above my pay grade.

Maybe it’s because it’s Halloween. Spooky things are afoot. Maybe my brain is playing pranks. On me. Because he’s a jerk. Maybe he’s saying I should have given him a treat. (He had a full glass of cider this morning. What more does he want from me?) Maybe I was just really high when I left this morning. I don’t know. But it freaked me the eff out.

*I wasn’t high
**My brain is just an a-hole

Not much farther now!

After a brief hiatus, the AppleJello Halloween festivus emerged again this year, like so many zombies.  PeachJello always comes up with the best costume ideas.  Usually, we go as some sort of “couples” costume.  One year we were Peter, Peter Pumpkin Eater with his pumpkin.  One year, Zohan and an old lady emerging from his salon.  You get the idea.  Never the typical “what’s hot this year at the costume store” costume.  This year was no exception.

I’m an attention whore.  I’m not ashamed to admit it.  How else do you describe delivering flowers as a knight.  Or the years of the Black Friday Elf?  I crave the attention people give me when I make a fool of myself.  (It may be more of an actual need, than a mere craving.  But, hey, it’s what I do.)

This year, I expected more of a reaction as we drove through town in full costume.  Do people pay that little attention to the people in cars around them?  I know that personally, I look into almost every car as I drive by them.  I like to see who’s around me.  And what they’re doing.  Be it simply driving.  Or texting.  Or eating a bowl of cereal on the way to work.

So imagine my surprise that one (ONE!!) person on the freeway noticed Papa Smurf and Smurfette driving around.  I mean, complete with blue faces and all.  We don’t like to do things half-assed.  (PeachJello suggested I go shirtless and just paint myself blue.  I declined.  A.) It was cold.  B.) I don’t think the AppleJello’s would appreciate my bare blue painted body in their new home.)  She noticed us, and turned around smiling and waving.  (Luckily, she was just a passenger.)  Sure, there were one or two that sheepishly looked in our direction while we were stopped at red lights.  Driving through a crowded shopping center yielded even worse results.  Not one person noticed!  Seriously?

After picking up our perfectly hand-crafted hats and Smurfette dress, made with love by GrapeJello, we headed to the party.  We got a text that the hostess needed a ladle.  No problem.  Bullseye is on the way.  We’ll stop in and grab one.  I’m no stranger to visiting this location in costume.  (See note above about Black Friday Elf.  Also, see note about driving through crowded shopping center.  Seriously.  No one pays attention to their surroundings.)

As we walked through the store, we caught some people’s attention.  Mainly kids.  They loved us.  We walked up and talked to a few.  The adults were a different story.  Most of the workers looked at us and smiled.  One cashier asked to take our picture as we checked out.  But for the most part, they avoided us.  Or they tried to pretend that they didn’t see what was right there in front of them as they stared directly ahead or at their feet.  (Except for the one guy humming the Smurfs theme song and commenting that he used to watch us with his grandma.  His reaction outweighed the stare-down I endured from the guy in line in front of us at the checkout.  I was getting a little scared.)

Perhaps the best reaction was when we stopped by Chick-Fil-A on the way home.  The girl working the drive-thru acted very professionally.  Much to my dismay.  Just when I was about to feel let down, again, she said to her drive-thru coworker, “No.  The other way.”  He looked out the window, laughed, and said, “Cool.”

I will say, however, that having little inhibition can be troublesome at work.  Especially when several of the people at the party work with you.  It’s hard to take people seriously when you know they’re having trouble taking you seriously after having seen you in this manner.

I was greeted this morning with a smirk and a “Papa Smurf…”

Who you gonna call?

‘Tis the time of year to celebrate all things supernatural. And I’m no stranger to the paranormal. Growing up in GrapeJello’s house, we had Bob. Our live-in ghost. He was a nice guy. Assuming he was a guy. He would oft make his presence known, be it through creaking stairs or lights turning on and off. Or the phantasmic apparition that appeared one Fourth of July as he wandered about the room and looked into the video monitor.

At our current residence, we have another ghost, Penny. She also is not shy about making herself known. Whether it is the strange knocking sound emanating from our kitchen or randomly placed pennies (hence the name), in previously empty rooms. One penny was even found inside a roll of toilet paper, under the next square to be used. Whether you’re a believer in Penny or not, that is a tough one to explain away.

Since Halloween is fast approaching, it is time to decorate the house. Our decorations for both this holiday and one of a less pagan nature are stored in the attic. As the Jello family knows, mucking about in the attic increases the likelihood that the specter will stir.

As I was in the attic, procuring said decorations, I heard a strange knocking sound on the rafters. This was followed by an eerie “OOOooooooOOOOOoooooo.” Then silence.

I continued digging out the adornments. Then it happened again. Knock. Knock. Knock. Then the voice again. Louder this time. “OOOOOoooOOOOOOoooOOOOOO.”

Given the nature of our phantom, I was not too worried as I continued searching for the boxes. Then the knocking moved over the area above the kitchen. This time, the voice called out, “OOOoooOOoo. Spooky ghoooost!” It was as clear as if I had said it myself. Perhaps now there was cause for concern. This continued the entire time I was in the attic. I finished my work, and then closed off the attic.

I proceeded to the kitchen to see if PeachJello and TapiocaPudding had heard the disturbances that were occurring. They replied that they heard me moving around in the attic, but nothing more. “Interesting,” I thought.

Maybe my efforts were all in vain it was intended solely to make me aware of the presence. Maybe I should have said it louder they weren’t meant to hear it.

Maybe it is as Red quipped, while I was still in the attic, “Are you having fun being ignored?”

Yes, I am, Red. Yes, I am.

All I know is that now, every where I go in the house, the voice follows me.

“OOOooooOOOooo. Spooky ghooost!”