That’s not a Pete Seeger song. Just me lamenting at what has now become a yearly occurrence. Or should I say, non-occurrence?

I live on a country road in a rural town in a pretty rural county. My expectation for seeing a whole bunch of four-foot-tall Wonder Womans or Blueys is minimal.

But in the past few years, minimal has trickled down from a few Caspers to invisible trick-or-treaters. Last year I rang my own doorbell so I wouldn’t feel guilty opening the bag of candy.

Neighborhoods change. We have fewer kids living near us. I get it.

But I noticed the real drop in trick-or-treaters, which I attribute to the increase of those insidious “trunk-or-treat” events that I think take the true fun and level of kid independence out of Halloween, turning it into yet another adult-manipulated gathering.

In case you don’t know, folks bring their decorated cars to a central location, usually a school or church parking lot, then kids walk from car to car, collecting candy from the trunks.

How’s that for excitement?

Some parents see it as a safe way for their kids to celebrate Halloween. That’s true. But are they really enjoying the holiday or learning how to walk around a car lot?

Personally, I see it as an easy alternative to walking the neighborhood with your kids. Parents, it’s time to ground the helicopter and give your kids some freedom.

Of course, if you have young children and live in Sullivan County – where you’re a stone’s throw away from just another stone – then the real trick of Halloween is to get your kids in and out of the car enough times so they arrive home with enough treats.

Think it’s easy to strap a lion in a car seat 30 times and not crease its tail or damage its mane?

I earned stealing my kids’ Halloween candy the hard way. Drive to a house. Get out. Get the three boys out of their car seats. Watch as they walk up to a house. Get a Reese’s. Walk back to the car. Get them all back into their car seats. Back out of the driveway and down the road to another house. And repeat.

“Save the Reese’s,” I’d yell, watching in the rear-view mirror as they upholstered the seats in  milk chocolate and peanut butter.

 “It’s your third Reese’s. And you just had a Butterfinger. Did you eat a Milky Way? You don’t need another Reese’s, and stop wiping your hands on the car; it’s covered with enough chocolate.

By this point, they had enough sugar in them to push the car to the next house.

“No, you can’t eat the apple. We don’t know what’s in the apple. I didn’t say there was something in the apple. No, I don’t think your aunt put anything in the apple. Hurry up and finish your Reese’s. Time for more trick-or-treat. Wipe your face. Not on your brother! And not on the seats!”

Trunk-or-treat takes all that a way. It assumes the holiday is simply about amassing free candy. Ok, it is, but let’s stay on point.

Trunking also subtly suggests that kids are in peril when walking up to any neighbor’s front door. Are we that paranoid? 

In Brooklyn, my parents said, “Be careful and don’t get home late.” I’d hit homes and apartments just off Kings Highway. We didn’t know who lived there. It didn’t matter.

Halloween is about kids walking around the neighborhood, especially when they’re old enough to go out with just their friends. It’s about children getting this one chance, one time of the year, to dress up and act like adults. Let them go ring doorbells and yell “trick-or-treat” instead of checking trunks for spare tires.

Barry Lewis is a longtime journalist and author who lives with his wife Bonnie in the Town of Neversink. He can be reached at      barrylewisscdemocrat@gmail.com.