Halloween People

Fish and chips at the Mountain Sun, treading water in a pool of youth. I was the only singleton there, almost four times older than everyone else---and everyone was talking or getting ready to talk, except for those who were busy laughing. It was so loud everyone had to shout to be heard, so the level of sound was self-sustaining. And it didn’t ebb and flow, it just stayed loud and clear and insistent, high-pitched and piercing, a soprano sax kind of sound.

Surprisingly, there were few serious costumes. Halloween seemed almost beside the point, as though the only important thing was this loud communal buzz itself, all these conversations and friendships, all this being together in one huge room with food and beer and ale and smiles and gossipy jokes. I was treading water all right, but there was buoyancy enough for all. And there was something old-fashioned about all this fun. It was like Sidney Bechet wailing right into your heart, just a little bit too loud.