Here are some (very) last minute party hints for your spooky social soirée, courtesy of 1973 and Chilling, Thrilling Sounds of the Haunted House. The bat invitation is pretty nifty, though the decorations may be a bit dated, 44 years to be exact. Regardless, HAPPY HALLOWEEN, KIDS!
Let me first say, Happy Halloween, everyone! Second, let’s trick our treats with 1978’s blue vinyl comp, 1967 – 1970. It’s hard to believe this double LP is 37 years old already, but this late era Beatles comp is essential listening material, regardless of the holiday (also available is the early-era sibling, red vinyl version).
Q: What do lasagna-eating cats, the annual, festive day in which children of all ages celebrate and remember the dead, and soul legend Lou Rawls have in common? A: The 1985 animated television special, and Primetime Emmy winner, Garfield’s Halloween Adventure. I grew up on this 30-minute opus, and watching it on, or around Halloween has become a yearly tradition. It’s hard to believe this special is almost 30 years old, but anyway, the connection lives within the iconic voice of Mr. Rawls.
During the special’s opener, This is the Night (Trick or Treat), and again on the sing-along classic, Scaredy Cat, Garfield’s cool, sleek voice is provided by Lou Rawls, and therefore solidifies the unexpected pairings of great soul music, and mischievous, lazy, cartoon cats. On Halloween, Garfield = Lou Rawls, aka Lou-Halloween-Field.
There exists a place… a residual haven of deceit and soulless vigor, where puppies go unwalked, and children color outside the lines. There stands a damning fortress, high above the crescent flying of winged beasts, where needles pierce the grooves of curiosity, and terror and panic are served with chilled forks and a pleasing Malbec. Within this bastion of social awkwardness and mournful second guesses, pens run out of ink and toes are stubbed on the tables of frustration.
Echoes of sharpened nails crawling down chalky blackboards reverberate amidst its walls in a seemingly never-ending dark wave of tone-deaf enthusiasm. Exhausted shrieks from drifting shadows recoil to an almost deafening growl, where the mist of hope lingers throughout the dank, stale air, never to be realized again. Few will enter… none will leave.
Be cautious of its intentions, for its walls are painted with deceit and its floorboards carved out of bashful fibs. Seen only by those who share with its gruesome banalities, this lair of organized filth goes by the sadistic moniker, The Prudent Groove.
Happy Halloween, kids! (Insert maniacal laughter here)