A goofy, favorite day -- groundhog not included - Los Angeles Times
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A goofy, favorite day -- groundhog not included

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PETER BUFFA

What a day! Sunday, Halloween, and a time change, all rolled into

one. In fact, if you forgot to reset your clock, go back to bed. God

knows you won’t find anything here that’s worth losing an hour’s

sleep over.

Is there a holiday more fun, more meaningless and more goofy than

Halloween? I say there is not. That’s why it’s my favorite, with the

possible exception of Groundhog Day. Quick -- is it six more weeks of

winter if Punxsutawney Phil sees his shadow or doesn’t see his

shadow? Not to worry. Nobody else knows either. I think they just

make it up.

So who started this Halloween thing anyway? Blame the Celts --

ancient people who lived in what is now Great Britain and Ireland

from about 500 BC on.

It wasn’t easy being a Celt. The food was awful, you had to wear

silly clothes, people were trying to kill you and animals were trying

to eat you. The Celts were grumpy, but they always enjoyed a good

party. Every year, near the end of our month of October, there was a

Celtic festival called “Samhain.” The Celts believed that the degree

of separation between this world and the next varied throughout the

year and that it was almost transparent at this time of year. Family

and friends who had crossed over would come back in the form of an

animal -- usually a black cat. Sound familiar? Black cats and

Halloween -- the perfect match.

Fire was a big part of any Samhain rager. Huge bonfires were built

on hilltops during the night to honor the gods for the harvest and

scare away Aunt Thelma in the cat disguise, which wasn’t fooling

anyone. People would stand around and say, “Thelma, you little devil,

is that you?” The revelers would carve out a gourd, put a burning

ember from the bonfire inside and carry it home to start a fire in

their hearth. Ring a bell? Carve out a gourd? Put a burning ember in

it? You are one smart goblin.

The High Priestess speaks

I found two news stories this week that bring the goofiness of

Halloween to a full, glorious boil. The first is from Prestopans,

Scotland, which had a nasty habit of executing people suspected of

being witches in the 16th and 17th centuries. Incredibly, some 3,500

poor souls were accused, convicted and executed as witches on

“evidence” such as using bad language or having a black cat. In a

public ceremony, to be held today, 81 people who were executed during

the witch hunts in Prestopans were pardoned. Geez, don’t put

yourselves out. What about the other 3,419 people? Are we still not

sure if they were witches or not? And what about the cats? Where do

they go to get their reputations back?

The second story is much closer to home. It happened in Puyallup,

Wash., and was reported in the Associated Press, and caught my eye

because I belong to a small club -- people who have actually been to

Puyallup, Wash., which is a pretty, rural area of southeast of

Tacoma. The way they do Halloween in Puyallup is enough to make an

ancient Celt proud, with Halloween parties and costume contests at

all the schools. Until this year, that is.

Last Monday, the school board in Pierce County, wherein we find

Puyallup, announced that all Halloween festivities in local schools

were canceled, kaput, done, forget the candy, skip the apples, the

only good costume is no costume. Puyallup parents were peeved and

their progeny perplexed. The school board said all the Halloween

nonsense was taking up too much instructional time and -- here’s the

good part -- they were worried that it was offensive to the Wiccan

religion.

The Wiccans, as if you didn’t know, practice a “neo-pagan”

religion that worships the forces of nature like earth, wind and

fire, not to be confused with Earth, Wind & Fire, as in “You’re a

shining star, no matter who you are .... “ That’s somebody else.

There is a community of Wiccans in and around Puyallup, and some

Wiccans consider themselves witches, although not bad witches like

Margaret Hamilton (“I’ll get you, my little pretty!”) but good

witches like Billie Burke (Glinda, the Good Witch of the North.)

Over the years, the Wiccans have expressed their displeasure now

and then with Halloween images of nasty witches in long black robes

riding broomsticks. According to the News Tribune of Tacoma, Puyallup

parents and kids packed a wild and wooly school board meeting last

Monday night at Ballou Junior High. It wasn’t pretty.

“I’m shaking with anger,” said parent Vicki Hembroff. “Our

children are very creative and this mixes education and fun

together.”

Another parent, David Powers, brought the crowd to their feet when

he told the board, “To make this decision at this late date is poor

management, and you should be ashamed of yourselves.”

But that reaction was nothing compared to the roar that went up

when the board made its final decision -- to minimize distractions in

the classroom and ensure that no Wiccans are offended, Halloween in

Puyallup schools is canceled, period. Next item please.

But here’s the punch line to the whole, loopy, preposterous story.

If there ever were any complaints about witches and Wiccans, someone

forgot to tell the Wiccans.

According to Lisa Lawrence, who has the totally impressive title

of “Wiccan High Priestess of Sacred Oak Circle in Puyallup and

Tacoma,” “Taking Halloween away from children, that’s just

ridiculous. We don’t particularly care for the images of witches,”

said Lawrence. “But there are a lot of stereotypical images that a

lot of people don’t like, but that’s part of life.”

So how did the school board arrive at the conclusion that witches

and Wiccans don’t mix? No one knows, and the board members have no

comment. How weird is that? On the day Halloween dies, the only voice

of reason is the Wiccan High Priestess of Sacred Oak Circle in

Puyallup and Tacoma. Is this a great holiday or what?

Have fun tonight and please be extra careful driving with all the

ghosts and goblins running around. I’ll be out there as Dorothy

tonight, so honk if you like my outfit. Toto, too.

I gotta go.

* PETER BUFFA is a former Costa Mesa mayor. His column runs

Sundays. He may be reached by e-mail at [email protected].

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