Well, I intended to have a short illustrated story up in time for the observance of Corn Night, a Red Wing ritual that, when I read Shirley Jackson's "The Lottery", kind of made me think I was growing up in an X-File-type creepy-town (although no one was ever stoned to death on Corn Night, to the best of my knowledge. Still: an observed holiday that no one else seems to remember or recognize?). I choose to observe the holiday by eating candy corn.The short story fell by the wayside; I did this sketch quickly today. Sorry for the crappy scan quality. I will try to remember to hack it down and scan it again.
If you think that the Queen's gown has been marred by the last-minute addition of a completely non-matching hooded sweatshirt, then you are clearly not from a cold-weather climate. It's Halloween tradition to completely screw up whatever costume you were dressed in by topping it off with a sweatshirt or parka (and, yes, we did need parkas. Let's celebrate the 20th anniversary...). This happened yearly. Why did we never, ever think to incorporate a coat or some layering into our costumes? Because our costumes were covered in jacket. So the sweet folks answering their doors developed a sort of coat blindness: "Oh! You're that MC Rapper [in a jacket]! And you must be a nurse [dressed for surgery on the Tundra]! And where did your mother find a Saturday Night Fever leisure suit [with non-matching jacket]"
Minnesotans are a special breed of people.
|Does this look too suicide pact-y? I was explicitly trying to avoid that. Happy Halloween.|