ustxtxb_obs_1988_10_28_50_00017-00000_000.pdf

A timely print job means nothing if it doesn’t make it to the post office on time. Our people do what it takes to make your deadline. We can do the whole job from computer mailing list production and printing to labeling and delivery. Call Futura at 389-1500. Em loyee Owned and Managed COMMUNICATIONS, INC. AUSTIN, TEXAS 3019 Alvin DeVane, Suite 500 389-1500 Data Processing Typesetting Printing Mailing “The problem is all the people coming to the door all the time,” Fran said. “Last week I was so embarrassed I answered and one of them asked if I had any work, and there was my lawn with the grass high enough to hide in! And me and him standing in it up to our ankles. And I said no, I didn’t have any work for him. God I was so embarrassed.” Linda, the quieter one, said. “You know, I hate Halloween. They’ve really ruined it.” Fran waved her hands back and forth in agreement. “There’s just gangs of them,” she said. “Little kids, big kids. They come from Juarez in truckloads. They don’t even wear costumes, and you give them all your candy and in ten minutes there’s nothing left. I guess they take it back and sell it or something. . . . Last year I gave them all my treats. And when that all ran out, I gave them dimes. Then I ran out of change. And they still kept ringing the bell. More and more of them! It’s terrible!” “And I so used to love putting out the jack-o-lantern and doing trick-or-treat and all,” Linda sighed. “But those kids from Juarez . . . now we just put up a sign that says ‘No Dulces,’ and we turn out the porch light and hide.” Fran stabbed a black olive with her fingernail, then perked up. “Hey,” she said, “Did you know Danny’s coming to visit in a few days?” He showed up at my house on Halloween, 40 and divorced. There were never any kids, and I was silent and tactful about this, because he’s the type we all thought would have many children, and quickly. My husband’s an emergency room doctor at the nearby ‘hospital but he had the night off, s o’ after dinner, Danny told us to live it up, find a party; he’d love to babysit our daughter and son. They put on their costumes and got their bags, but Danny said no way! He wasn’t going to let them go trick-or-treating. Not the way things are now, he said. Not with all the maniacs putting needles and razor blades in the treats. “Danny!” I laughed. “Don’t you know that’s all a myth? Aside from some kids putting stuff in their candy to get attention, there hasn’t been one documented case of razor blades or glass in treats in the whole country!” “I don’t believe you,” he said. “You should, because it’s the truth.” “Well, then why does the hospital X-ray the kids’ candy for free every year?” “That’s a lot of crap,” I said. “Pure PR stunt.” My son and daughter looked at us, wideeyed. Danny looked at me. “You want them to hear you saying that about the place their father works?” he said. So we took the kids to a party at the McDonald’s on Piedras. It turned out that the manager was one of Chato’s little brothers; he smiled a lot and gave each of the children a little hamburger and some shrink-wrapped cookies in a white sack. Danny and I sat watching the games, and I said, “Hey. Remember that story you told me about your first trick-or-treat and the burritos?” He looked at me blankly. I repeated all the details, everything I could remember. But he just shrugged. “You’re thinking about someone else,” he said. “No, come on. It was you. I’m sure of it; I have a good memory.” “Well, all that was a long time ago. And that kind of a story . . . maybe you heard it in Spanish. And to tell you the truth, your Spanish wasn’t so good back then. So maybe you didn’t catch all the words just right. Those kinds of things can get lost in translation, you know.” So I blew it off, and as we were ordering ANDERSON & COMPANY’ COFFEE TEA SPICES TWO JEFFERSON SWAM: AUSTIN, TEXAS Mal 512 453-1533 .Send me your list. Name Street ‘City Zip fries a big mob of Juarez kids in raggedy tee-shirts came in yelling, “trick or treat!” They pronounced it pretty good as they ran from table to table with their soggy bags, holding out handfuls of loose candy corn. They managed to sell a fair amount of it to the American kids, too, until a parent complained to Chato’s little brother. He was pretty nice about it though he gave each of them a Happy Meal before he kicked them out. \(TN Listed On The National Register of Historic Places “Go gather by the humming sea Some twisted, echo-harboring shell, And to it all thy secrets tell” W. B. Yeats P.O. Box 8 Port Aransas, TX 78373 THE TEXAS OBSERVER 17