Sparks Ignites

When I was a child, at Halloween, kids would put on their costumes and venture out into the early evening twilight, carrying a shopping bag waiting to be filled with candy. There were no fun-sized candy bars; we received the real thing, not a sample-sized facsimile—there’s no fun in one bite. The excitement was in the underlying dread of a potential cavity from binge-eating a Milky Way, a Hershey's, a Baby Ruth, and a Payday.  We’d wander for miles, fueled by sugar, adrenaline, and a sense of freedom in the darkened suburbs. When knocking on doors, there was always a bit of trepidation about whether you’d get a Reese’s Cup or a shriveled apple from the back of someone’s crisper drawer.  In our modern age of safety-conscious, convenience-obsessed helicopter parents, we’ve replaced the tradition of true “trick-or-treating” with something far more mundane and sterile:  Trunk or Treat .  For the uninitiated, Trunk or Treat is a hometown solution to Halloween’s most press...

Great news for Americans everywhere—or at least a few. You’ll no longer have to wish you had billions, a reality show, or secret Swiss bank accounts. Achieve the look that says, “ I have money,   status, and questionable taste.” Thanks to advancements in vinyl technology and our society’s desire to appear richer than we are, the  Trump Ballroom  can now be yours: fully inflatable and just several hundred pumps away from you becoming the despot of Versailles. Believe it or not, for less than a used Mini Cooper, you can blow up a faux monument to narcissistic excess and a truly useless vanity project. Your child’s birthday party can now have the same grandeur as a state dinner held for Vladimir Putin, Xi Jinping, Kim Jong-Un, and Nicolás Maduro. Your kiddos can whisper cheating strategies for T-ball and about how the cost of their own ballroom isn’t over-inflated.  Being a blowhard makes for easy installation. Just demolish your two-car garage, and ten minutes later, y...

My Dearest Pumpkin-Spiced Ghouls and Goblins, October has arrived, and if you haven’t strung some fake cobwebs or strategically placed a few pumpkins, you’re already living in a haunted house—because your soul has clearly died. Don’t you get it, my little zombie? Halloween is practically Christmas for people who can decorate with more than three throw pillows. You know who you are—my gay, curious, and artistically inclined straight lovelies. Get your cobwebbed act together and show off your big, shiny pumpkins. Take your vision—please tell me you have one—of a “haunted hovel” and elevate it to a “hauntingly chic manor.” Follow my definitive guide to decorating for Halloween, because lawn inflatables are an abomination (and I don’t mean in a good  Addams Family  way); plastic skeletons are fake, and your porch is screaming “Spirit of Halloween clearance aisle.” Step 1: The Dramatic Entrance Your front door is your runway, darling. If you’re still hanging a “Trick or Treat” sign...