When I was growing up in Colorado, trick or treating was a purely neighborhood affair. 

I’d run around with my parents, then my friends, dressed as a Ninja Turtle or the bad guy from “Scream,” loading up on candy and then trading with friends to get as many Reeses as I could. 

When we lived in Littleton, Colorado, my group of friends always made sure the row of nice McMansions up on the hill were part of the route, as a few gave away full-sized candy bars. But I’d also stop by the dentist who lived in the neighborhood for an apple and a new toothbrush. 

These gatherings were such neighborhood events that it almost seemed to be a raid if we left our neighborhood to go to another for some candy. 

These were certainly fun times as a kid, but I can also remember parents struggling to keep up with running children, or waiting at the door to wonder where we’d been. 

Now, as a parent, I’ve learned to appreciate what my parents went through, both while I was hunting candy and then the sugar rushes afterward. 

So, I like the much more managed, community-focused event that is Powelloween. I know neighborhood trick or treating still happens, but not really out of town where we live. So a nice, few-block stroll with our boys, as they patiently await their turn in line for candy, makes “adulting” through Halloween just about bearable for the curmudgeonly, almost anti-Halloween adult I’ve become. 

We live in a great community, so it makes sense that the best version of Halloween is one where the community participates. 

So, my former Colorado neighbors can keep their full-sized candy bars. I’ll take Powelloween.