Since it's Halloween, I thought you might enjoy a column I wrote a decade ago.
MISSING OUT ON HALLOWEEN
Halloween has always been somewhat of a mystery to me.
Perhaps that's because I grew up in Africa, where you'd have
to be a little crazy to leave your pumpkins outside. Folks
there never have trouble distinguishing between decorations
and food. And leaving food on your porch is not a good idea.
Especially during a famine. When people are starving, there
is nothing more arrogant than decorating your house with
food.
Actually, the conditions were never that bad in Zambia, the
country I grew up in. We never felt the need to go door to
door, begging for candy.
My mom would have been so embarrassed if I had asked a
neighbor for food. Especially after giving the neighbor a
threat. Trick or treat? A quick call to my mother and the
trick would have been saving my butt from a whipping.
If we were guests at someone's house and they offered me a
second helping of dessert, the correct response was "No,
thank you." Mom was always watching and I didn't want it to
be my last dessert.

racists. A fight would inevitably break out and, with a little luck, we'd have fewer racists in the world. My wish may never come true, not in the way I imagine it, but I'm getting a little satisfaction from what's happening in Cullman, Alabama, where the KKK is in conflict with ... well, the KKK.



admiration of America.

recaptured this week in New Brunswick, Canada, but you can bet your last egg roll he'll be out again.




Canadian justice system more lenient, when (if) you're finally released from prison, you'll virtually win the lottery. In America, on the other hand, you'll be compensated like you mop floors at Wal-Mart. Take the case of a North Carolina man.
