The leaves are turning, the nights have a hint of chill, the pumpkins have ripened. That means my favorite holiday is almost here. I love Halloween. That’s partly because it sits tucked up against my birthday, so it always seems as if people are celebrating, well, moi. But it’s also because Halloween, unless you’re Henri David or Martha Stewart, is a holiday without a lot of fuss and bother. There isn’t any special meal to cook. (We usually order pizza.) Decorations are cheap and quick; you carve up a jack o’lantern, you toss some phony cobwebs across the shrubbery. You get to dress up as somebody else. Reese’s Cups are involved. And you get to scare little kids with impunity. Let’s face it, what could be more fun than scaring little kids?But I’ve noticed more and more that the fun is falling out of The Big ’Ween, drained by Glenn Beck-ish fear-mongering. In my neighborhood, it’s harder and harder for kids to find the porch lights that signify “Handout within!” My neighbors keep their houses dark on Halloween night, huddling inside with the doors firmly locked. I’ve heard their complaints. They say the kids who come trick-or-treating are too old, or too rude, or too greedy. They grumble that the kids don’t even make an attempt at costuming, and that they travel in packs. They say they’re scared to open their doors; they don’t want teenagers seeing their big fancy flat-screens and getting ideas.