Kincaid's Hallowed(?) Magic

Halloween has always haunted the evangelicals in my home -which was everyone save for our wanton, Jezebel of a dog, “Cocoa.” For a season, my parents permitted a sacrosanct flirtation with this pagan holiday: The condition was that we donned costumes promoting pious angels and pretty shepherdesses or pure-hearted princesses- with a deviant Ho-Bo theme (tolerated only during a fiscally lean year).

Then, in the early 1990s, Halloween was abruptly abolished when –quite fortuitously- church “fall festivals” (and coincidentally, Vanilla Ice) became all the rage. Into the fires of purification went my Joey Lawrence poster, a rogue TLC “Waterfalls” cassette and our trick-or-treating paraphernalia. Interestingly, with the popularity of provocative proselytizing propaganda (aka “tracks”), the pendulum of Halloween apologetics has since swung back in the favor of my dentist’s 401K. Thus, it is ironic that my son appears in the Halloween edition of Family Circle. On page eighty-nine, to be exact, Kincaid is promoting Colace’s gastrointestinal magic during this saccharine season of necromancy– the likes of which we cannot decide whether to celebrate or scorn.

(Just in case you missed it- Here's how he got this gig http://kulpheartfrankenfield.blogspot.com/2010/06/face-of-constipation-relief.html)

I HATED the Hobo Halloween