OPINION: Get your spook on

Halloween is not suitable for kids.  Only adults with nerves of steel should have the crap scared out of them.

When I was a boy I was shy and timid and spooky things like ghosts and goblins were avoided at all costs.

I was wary of black cats, full moons and frosty autumn nights when the boogeyman was prowling with his friends Dracula and Frankenstein.

On Halloween night the danger and perils were double.  After dark the wind blew stronger, gates squeaked louder and blood ran colder.
Suddenly vacant lots and small, dimly lit houses with long walkways became perfect settings for ambush by werewolves and vampires.

Our ragtag band of brothers, sisters and friends wandered the streets of the hood, looking over our shoulders and sheepishly peering down dark back alleys.

We were scared and nervous but one thing made us brave enough to endure the demons and witches of Westfort.

At the end of the night (in our case about 8 p.m.) provided we hadn’t been bitten by a vampire or murdered by Frankenstein, there would be candy as our reward.

I can still recall that exquisite terror followed by an intense, sugar-fuelled high with my friends but I can’t seem to recapture the moment entirely.

When modern-day monsters come to my door they are rewarded well for their effort, but they don’t seem to be terrified enough to really enjoy the experience.

If I scare them myself their parents get upset so I just dole out the goodies and keep my “booooos” to myself as I long for the good old scary days.

Until now. This year it was time for something completely different. 

We gathered together a noticeably less ragtag band of friends at the Haunted Fort Night to get our spook on.

I was filled with anxiety. What to wear to an evening of terror. 

I wore a parka to absorb any guts or slime I encountered.  I also had a t-shirt and brown pants.  It turned out to be the perfect choice.

Only adults 12 and older are even allowed at this horrifying event. 

You need a well-developed sense of horror and creepiness to appreciate the fun.

The sheepish and namby-pamby need not apply. 

We got there after dark. The moon was a so-called ghostly galleon on cloudy seas.  I needed a coffee. 

I was served by a girl with a gaping, bloody slashed throat.  She was quite pleasant, considering.  The coffee was good, too.

It was spooky at the Fort.  A nervous young lady (possibly undead) led the way holding a candle lantern. 

The ghouls were everywhere.  You could feel them brushing your legs and loose clothing as they lurked in dark doorways and dimly lit spaces.

Gunshots, explosions, flares, firelight. At times we were running for our lives. Blood-curdling screams filled the night.
I felt like a kid again.

I think most kids like to be scared now and then.  They realize soon enough that it was all in fun and monsters are make-believe – mostly, I’m pretty sure.

It’s fun for parents, too, if they are good sports and prepared to endure nightmares, irrational fears and years of checking under the bed.
It’s a great experience and a source of fond, scary memories.

Go ahead ­– if your kids are older than 12, scare the crap out of them.

They will thank you for it. 

That bag full of candy doesn’t hurt either.

Was I scared during Haunted Fort Night? 

Well, I don’t want to give anything away so let’s just say I was glad I wore my brown pants.