Citybillies,
the rumors are true.
It’s
confession time. About a week ago, I
gave in to the holiday spirit and dressed up in costume.
Why
would I do such a thing? Well, I mean,
the list of reasons isn’t anything out of the ordinary. Friends, women, chocolate and wine. Good friends and outgoing women. Free chocolate. Lots of wine…and just a basic, thirsty yen for
society.
Hey,
it happens.
But
listen.
This
wouldn’t be just some cheap costume picked off the racks.
If
I was going to dress up, then I would spend Hallowe’en, not in costume, but
in embodiment…walking in someone else’s shoes…seeing the world through the eyes
of another….and nothing to do with chocolate or candy or nougat or taffy…this
would be about nature’s candy…my favorite seasonal fruit…a change of season in
every crunch.
I
spent Hallowe’en dressed up as one of my favorite figures in all of Turtle
Island’s long, storybook history…one of the greatest farmers that ever put seed
to dirt…the man behind the myth…one of those weird, wonderful, whimsical,
virtuous madmen that lurk in the margins of the history textbooks…the one and
only John Chapman.
All
right. Fine.
Johnny
Appleseed.
