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Updating our greatest fleeting guest on the most important details of modern life in Medford
By Nate Rubright
Dear Paul Revere,
How much was Halloween a thing for you? I am sure there are some pretty accessible sources that I could go to for an answer to that question, but we kind of live in an increasingly antisocial age and I’ve started using my ignorance as a pretext for making conversation. Being that you haven’t walked around Medford for 200-ish years, I understand that this also doesn't really satiate that social need. But, you are more real than a search engine response, so let’s just go forward with it.
I don’t know if you would be stoked or dismayed to learn that Massachusetts is basically ground zero for the American conception of Halloween, with Salem being the absolute epicenter. Forget about getting up there during the month of October. Also, if your roommate's girlfriend from Atlanta won't heed your warnings that it is more crowded than they can imagine, insist that they at least take the commuter rail.
Something I would really love your opinion on is costumes. Nowadays, there is a pretty decent amount of social pressure to think up a new, fun, intricate, hopefully relevant costume every year so that you don’t look like the lamest person at the Wright’s Pond Pumpkin Float. The harshest costume critics? My own children, who delight in obscure television shows that I know for a fact they have never seen. Seriously, we had an hour-long conversation about the specific dot placement of the dress of a character named “Baby Box”. I think they learned about her from a friend’s lunchbox.
Back in my day, you could just get your mom to do a lightning scar across your forehead, and since you already had the thick glasses, you were 90% of the way to being “The Boy Who Lived.” Bonus points if you had a robe and a short stick from the backyard, but these were not completely necessary. Another thing is that we have a fractured media landscape, especially for children. The aforementioned “baby box” was certainly recognized last Saturday, but only by a select few other children. I still vividly remember the year I put a green C on my white and red hat, hung a couple poke ball keychains from my belt, and got a high-five from practically everyone on Tall Trees Drive.
One thing is for certain: I don’t think anyone will be dressed as you. This is not because Paul Revere isn’t a dynamite costume, but because there are three to four other times during the year that that costume hits way harder. If anything, wearing something colonial during Halloween is sort of tone-deaf to how often our history gets reenacted today.
Anyway, your correspondent will be wearing a unicorn onesie today. It is sort of one-note and lame, but at least it’s warm.
Nate in North Medford
