Do we need to save Halloween?

As a little kid, there were three days out of the year that filled my youthful soul with unparalleled excitement: Halloween, Christmas and my birthday — in that order.

In our house, we were free to dream up our own costume ideas, which was always an ordeal in itself. I’d draw sketches, then supervise as Mom laboured over the sewing machine to bring my outlandish visions to life.

When I was younger, I chose costumes like a Smurf or Garfield. As I got older, I preferred the more horror-based costumes — executioner, zombie, devil, blood-pumping skeleton, etc. Much to Mom’s dismay, the costume designs seemed to get more elaborate each year.

We all proudly wore our costumes to school, playing the role of our chosen characters for all they were worth.

On the big night, my siblings and I would go out trick-or-treating together, revelling in the cool, creepy October darkness while Mom and Dad followed along in the car.

Even as an adult, I still get into the Halloween spirit each year, going out to parties or dressing up for work.

But like most of our beloved traditions, Halloween has become a target for the over-protective and the over-thinkers, so I shouldn’t have been surprised to come across a couple of recent stories about a few educators’ efforts to suck the fun out of Halloween.

The first article described how a school in Barrie, Ont., sent out notes to parents earlier this month stating that students in Grades 3 and up were prohibited from wearing costumes this year.

Another article talked about a Calgary school principal’s campaign for ‘caring costumes’ to replace outfits that could be interpreted as scary or violent in nature.

Score another victory for the buzz-killing, politically correct, squeaky wheels of the world. ...

Curious about what was happening locally, I called up Bruce Buruma, director of community relations for the Red Deer Public School Division.

I was surprised to learn that many schools in the division have had longstanding Halloween policies of their own. Buruma said each school in the division handles Halloween differently.

“There is a recognition that there is a wide variety of beliefs,” Buruma said. “Some want more (Halloween), some want less. The thing for us is to find the right balance.”

Instead of allowing students to wear costumes to class, some schools have opted to hold Halloween dances to avoid the distraction of costumes in class. Some schools hold special events, like Glendale School’s Pumpkin Extravaganza, while others encourage students to wear orange and black clothes instead of costumes.

For me, this ranks right up there with the annual campaign to change the phrase ‘Merry Christmas’ to ‘Happy Holidays.’

Have we become so ridiculously oversensitive as a society that people are now offended by the sight of a little kid dressed up as a vampire or a skeleton on Halloween?

Where does the madness end?

I’d suggest that Halloween provides a chance for us to make light of the things that scare us most — namely death itself.

Most importantly, it’s a chance for kids to put their imaginations to work and play make believe in whatever role they can dream up. Who cares if it offends a few oversensitive people or disrupts class for one day?

If we let the complainers have their way on this one, what will Halloween eventually become?

Ten years from now, will our kids be sitting in around a computer doing Halloween-based learning activities instead of putting their imaginations to work by dressing up and acting silly?

I have a seven-month-old boy at home about to embark of his first Halloween simply because his Mom and Dad thought it would be fun to dress him up as a tiger and take him out visiting.

But when the day comes that he asks to be a zombie, a vampire or a headless corpse for Halloween, I’ll gladly take him out to buy some plastic fangs or help whip up a batch of fake blood.

Parents must bear the blame for child obesity

When I encounter a morbidly obese child, the first question that comes to my mind is, ‘Who is responsible for this?’

In most cases, the answer is obvious.

My wife and I were looking for something to do one hot August afternoon, so we packed up our five-month-old son and headed down to Discovery Canyon just north of the city. For those unfamiliar, Discovery Canyon is a small water park where kids can ride inflatable tubes down a short man-made stream or play in a rocky pool of slow-flowing water.

We found a shady spot and began chatting, playing with our baby and people watching. Observing the crowd, I quickly registered a troubling theme — more than half the kids present were seriously overweight.

As if reading my thoughts, my wife leaned over and whispered, “Are you noticing how many chubby kids there are?”

Everywhere you looked, there were kids between five and 12 years old sporting bouncing bellies and chubby cheeks — and I’m not talking about the kind of excess you can reasonably blame on baby fat.

Feeling a mix of pity and anger, I watched one particularly overweight kid try to wiggle himself into a terribly undersized inner tube as thinner kids pushed past him on their way down the stream. No more than eight years old, the boy struggled in vain for several minutes before eventually giving up and letting the riderless tube float away.

“That poor guy is in for a tough life,” I said quietly, wondering how such a young kid could possibly become so large.

We watched as the boy trudged back to a nearby picnic table, where his parents — also badly overweight — were feasting on a big pile of fried chicken.

Mystery solved.

Now I am not a nutrition expert by any stretch and I’m sure my own eating habits could stand to improve. However, I do understand a few basic concepts — like the fact that poor eating and a sedentary lifestyle will result in serious health problems, no matter how old you are.

As kids, my siblings and I were granted treats every now and then — candy, ice cream, pop, chocolate bars — all those high-sugar goodies that little kids constantly crave. But my parents never allowed any of those things in excess.

I have memories of us weeding the garden for hours on the promise we’d get to share a can of pop or a Mr. Freezie when the job was done. The treats were always placed somewhere high up and we were forbidden from taking anything without permission.

These days, too many kids are given free rein of the junk-food shelf and the results are plain to see.

Canada’s Childhood Obesity Foundation estimates that child obesity rates have tripled in the last 25 years and about 26 per cent of Canadian kids between two and 17 years old are overweight.

Looking around Red Deer, I would’ve guessed that percentage to be far higher.

It’s a harsh reality but being overweight closes a lot of doors for young people. When was the last time you saw a flabby astronaut or a morbidly obese police officer?

And let’s not overlook all the social stigmas that come along with childhood obesity. Fat kids get judged, bullied and teased — it’s a cruel but real fact of life.

More important are the physical consequences that accompany unhealthy eating and obesity like Type 2 diabetes, coronary heart disease, hypertension, respiratory problems and a shortened life expectancy.

All that fat is weighing heavy on our health-care system. Direct and indirect costs associated with obesity are estimated at nearly $4.5 billion per year.

It’s heartbreaking to see small children fall victim to obesity because of the negligence and ignorance of their parents.

Healthier options are always available for those willing to take a little initiative and educate themselves. Take some time, do a little Internet research and make sure your kids get in a some physical activity on a daily basis.

Moms and dads, if you can’t find the discipline or willpower to live healthier for your own sake, I beg of you, do it for your children.

My first Father's Day as a father

I awoke Sunday morning with the feeling I was being watched.

Still foggy with sleep, I looked to my left and saw the gleaming blue eyes of my three-month-old son Grayson staring at me. My wife, Amanda, had him propped up on her pillow in anticipation of me waking up to my first Father’s Day as an honest-to-goodness daddy.

“Hey dude,” I said, and he replied with a happy gurgling sound and an ear-to-ear grin.

I couldn’t imagine a better way to start that day — or any day, really.

Amanda takes these kind of occasions seriously, so she had a gift bag of goodies ready for me, which included new golf gloves, some shaving supplies and a framed picture of Grayson. The gift opening was followed up by a special breakfast of my choice.

I suggested the custom-order breakfast thing become a daily occurrence, but was met with the 'don't push it' look.

Since the baby came along, I often find myself trying to ‘mentally record’ special little moments onto the hard-drive of my brain so that I can pull up these old memories from the archives and enjoy them again at a later date.

I was playing with Grayson while Amanda made breakfast, and it struck me that this was one of those moments worth archiving.

The concept of Father’s Day got a bit more real when my own dad beat me to the punch by calling to wish me a happy Father’s Day, which brought us both a big laugh.

I had big plans for cleaning out the garage on Sunday, but ended up spending the majority of the day playing with Grayson on the couch, making silly noises and tickling his belly to try and induce one of those big, soul-warming smiles.

(I should mention that I was also given the day off diaper duty, which is always nice).

I tried my best to soak it all in, to savour this once-in-a-lifetime moment with my young family.

But something tells me I won’t really, truly appreciate the significance of my first Father’s Day for at least a couple of decades.

Protect the right of self-endangerment

The right to endanger ourselves in the name of fun and adventure is one of our most precious freedoms in Alberta.

Sadly, it’s a freedom that is constantly under attack by those who would see lawmakers start legislating against all kinds of potentially dangerous activity.

As kids, we grew up behind the handlebars of snowmobiles and ATVs, which are often at the centre of debates about safety and legality.

When I was six years old, Dad would start the old Ski-Doo TNT 340 for my little brother and I, and watch from the kitchen window as we took turns driving slow laps around the garden.

When we got older, Dad bought a pair of well-used Arctic Cat snowmobiles and our riding territory was expanded to the three quarter sections adjacent to our farm. If we dared break Dad’s firm rules about reckless driving or going outside the designated boundary, we lost our snowmobile privileges for a week or two — which was devastating.

In the summer, we rode ATVs and motorcycles, exploring the vast and rugged eastern Alberta countryside with our buddies.

As teenagers, snowmobile and ATV treks became a weekly occurrence. Just about every Saturday we’d suit up, fuel up and go riding for the day — often not returning home until sundown. On our frequent excursions, we developed an intimate knowledge of the local landscape and learned a thing or two about tinkering with temperamental two-stroke engines.

Did we get into trouble sometimes? Absolutely.

I recall one day in particular, while riding my little Suzuki quad down the gravel road toward our grandparent’s place, I caught a wheel on a grader ridge and launched into the ditch. My machine got hung up in a barbed-wire fence and I was thrown clear into the field on the other side. Luckily, I wasn’t hurt, although the incident put a real scare into my parents and grandparents.

I was a little shaken up but not enough to stop me from going out again the next weekend — with repeated promises to drive more carefully in the future.

Some of the best memories I have were born on those days — getting stuck in the mud, breaking down and having to walk to the nearest house, having a spontaneous hot-dog roasts in the middle of nowhere.

As a working adult, my riding days are few and far between, but I do enjoy the occasional opportunity to spend a day motorbiking or snowmobiling with my friends back home.

My younger brother Aric is still an avid snowmobiler who makes several trips into the Rockies each winter. It’s a dangerous pastime, but one that boasts an unbeatable sense of exhilaration.

Aric and his riding mates certainly understand the risks associated with sledding in the mountains. They take all the appropriate precautions, but there are never any guarantees. For my brother and his ‘sledneck’ pals, the rush is totally worth the risk.

People are into all kinds of hazardous recreational activities beyond snowmobiling and ATVing. Many Central Albertans enjoy activities like rock climbing, skydiving and backcountry skiing. Imagine the outcry if the government brought down a bunch of rules and restrictions on horseback riding?

These dangerous sports and activities are bound to have a few casualties, and every year we hear of sledders and skiers being killed in avalanches or stranded in the backcountry. When those kinds of tragedies strike, there are always cries for tighter legislation with the goal of increasing safety and saving lives.

These safety advocates — although well-intentioned — are sadly misguided.

The desire to seek out a little personal peril every now and then is a strange, illogical human characteristic.

But it’s one we should always be entitled to.