If I could draw, I’d do my own version of this story:

When I was in elementary school, “bum” was the go-to Halloween costume for most of the boys.

Then came Halloween, 1964: our parents were away and our grandparents were staying with us. From the Old Country. And old, though in hindsight about the same age I am now.

And my grandmother did not get the whole “dress up like a bum” concept.

And that meant it wasn’t happening.

So on the day of the school’s Halloween parade, my brother and I dressed in the oldest clothing we could get away with, and detoured through a sort of alley filled with dirt and fallen leaves…

… and messed ourselves up the best we could.

(When I was back in town last weekend for my high school reunion, I took photos of the old neighborhood — which hasn’t changed at all, other than more foreign cars and fewer tail-fins — never suspecting I’d be using one of them on the CIDU page a week later)