I’ve previously documented our Halloween scarecrow tradition. It’s something we enjoy, keeping it alive for at least 60 years now.
Well, this year, I don’t know what to say . . .
Here’s the view from the other side (and yes, he’s doughy) . . .
And now the backside again, the view from the street . . .
It’s either the most awesome Preller scarecrow ever, or a serious lapse in taste.
As for the old days, here’s a snap from 1953. My father built these every year . . .
This is about 20 years later, from the 70’s. It’s amazing, but most of our family photos are cropped this way. It’s hard to imagine why, or what was so difficult about keeping everybody in the frame, but there it is . . .
This is a more recent example, 35 years after that, from my own front yard, thanks to a little (and I mean, a very little) help from my kids . . .
Last year we experimented with the pillowcase head and gratuitous gore . . .
But this year, 2011, I’m afraid we’ve finally cracked. Wait, wrong word. Butt . . . you know what I mean. I guess you could say it’s a living tradition, we’re not slaves to the old ways of doing things. Or maybe, in my mother’s old expression, “We’re all going to hell in a hand basket!”
HEY, I JUST REALIZED . . . THIS IS MY 700th POST!