Trick-or-treating involves an implied contract. In exchange for giving you free candy, it is my right to see you in an adorable, clever, or at least half-assed costume.
The trick-or-treater has rights also. These include the right to perform "tricks" on my home, car, or other property should I fail to uphold my end of the contract by providing free candy, or should I exhibit meanspiritedness by refusing to answer the door or shaking my fist in the air while grumbling, "you kids!"
Last night, I answered the door to a precious little "sunflower," a variety of "princesses," and one very kick-ass giant inflatable "ghost." But at least sixty percent of the tots* who came to my door were completely, obviously, not in costume at all. (It doesn't have to be elaborate or expensive--would it kill you to dress up as a "hobo" or "pirate" or "gypsy" or something?) In my opinion, these young people grossly violated the trick-or-treating contract.
And yet, I did give them candy, and not out of pure charity. As mentioned previously, the trick-or-treater has the right to perform "tricks" on my property if I break the contract. The problem is, if I justifiably withhold candy from a contract violator, that person's freedom to exercise the "tricking" right may continue even though he has broken the contract. (E.g., while I sleep he may be able to egg my house without being caught.)
That candy I gave out last night was
protection money. Trick-or-treating is no longer a community building activity. Now it's a
racket!
*"tots" applied loosely to include pubescents on the verge of sprouting facial hairLabels: civil society, Halloween