The Mischief is over.  Vaagen made a big play, but it didn’t pan out.  Next week we’re starting ‘Bitter Bonds.’  That might be the final title, or it might change, which tells you nothing.

Big night tonight, the one holiday of the year I have the least bit of interest in.  My daughter is Maleficent, my wife is abstaining from festivites, my costume of choice this year is ‘Father.’  It’s a pretty complex costume, it’s taken a shade over nine years to get ready at this point, but it’s a better fit each year.  My one hope is enough Smarties and mini Reese’s peanut butter cups to last more than a day, which never happens.  What does happen is that all the good candy will be gone by tomorrow and we’ll all be staring at a bowl full of gross caramels wrapped in waxy orange and black paper.  The bowl will continue to adorn our kitchen counter for a month before we’re all sick of it and decide to throw it out.  Who even makes those candies, also, who would buy those candies? Knowing that you have to pass them out to poor unsuspecting strangers.  Why would you do that to someone?