Boo

It’s Halloween. That means my evening will consist of cracking open a pumpkin ale and doling out simple carbohydrates to the little children wearing costumes. When I was younger, I used to be into it. I’d dress up and wander through the neighborhood with my pillowcase loading up on sweets. Then there came a point in my life when I thought Halloween was the manifestation of everything satanic. I was pretty hard core against it. Now I’ve swung the other way and I’m back to handing out candy instead of Chick tracts. While I don’t doubt there are those who mark the occasion as some sort of pagan holiday, for the most part, under the proper supervision, it’s harmless fun.

Ally will be a witch.

Just kidding. She’s a flower. We will take her around for a little while and she’ll collect candy for my wife and me to eat later. Seriously, Ally doesn’t eat a whole lot of sweets. She’d rather have fruit, so she can keep all the apples and we’ll take the Snickers.

My wife is still smarting from the beat down her Redskins took at the hands of my Giants. I’ve never seen the ‘Skins play so poorly. Or did the Giants play well? Which Manning is quarterback for the Giants, anyway? But the Redskins really didn’t have a chance, due to the Dead Team Patriarch Factor, which went into effect when former Giants owner Wellington Mara died last week. By all accounts, Mara was a beloved and revered figure in the world of sports and very much the anti-Steinbrenner.