Sometime this week, in honor of one of my favorite holidays, I've got to watch "The Nightmare Before Christmas". Man, what a good movie. I suggest you watch it this week, too. Not tonight though, because tonight is the season premiere of 24 (brought to you without commercial interruption by Ford)! Catch all the real-time madness at 9 eastern on Fox. Last season, the makers of 24 proved they could write weekly cliffhangers that would cause everyone watching to scream at the sheer tension of it all and the thought of having to wait another week to see how it works out. Can they bring back the magic this year? I'll sure as hell be watching to find out.

In another Halloween tradition, I'm hereby reprinting my Halloween column from last year, already the most reprinted of all my columns, having appeared in college newspapers in Kentucky, California, Florida and others (it's true). As an ironic postscript, I never did end up trick or treating last year. Anyway, enjoy the creatively titled (by my editor) "Trick-or-Treating College Style"

The days are getting shorter, the leaves are changing colors and I've already lost interest in all my classes. That can only mean it's October.

I love October, because to me it's synonymous with my favorite non-present-based, non-feast-based holiday: Halloween. What can I say? Presents and feasts kick ass, but Halloween kicks ass too. That's why, despite all my friends, family and social instincts telling me not to — I plan on going trick-or-treating this year.

You remember trick-or-treating, don't you? The brisk night air. The costumes. The thrill of running around after dark with your friends. The thrill of getting chased by bigger kids with shaving cream cans. The thrill of growing up, being rich and famous and seeing those same shaving cream kids offer you a shoeshine at a bus stop. All of these thrills made Halloween fun. But they simply can't hold a candle to the candy.

Candy is delicious. No one's going to argue that with me. The only hassle about candy is having to pay for it. If only there was some way to get candy for free. Oh, why can't there be some way — oh wait there is. It's called trick-or-treating. I think all you naysayers who scoff at me for wanting to go trick-or-treating this year should pause for a moment and reflect on that concept. Free candy. Is there ever an age where you outgrow free candy? Maybe when you're 70-communist. I rest my case.

That said, your senior year of college is probably the last time you can go trick-or-treating without it being just plain sad. That's why I have to go this year. Before I came to college, I had never missed a year of trick-or-treating. Even the year when the only person who would go with me was my one lame friend. No, really, she was lame. She had broken her ankle getting off the school bus. But we still went trick-or-treating, with me pulling her around the neighborhood in a wagon. I was dressed as an apple seller and she was an apple.

However, when I came to college, I found people's priorities had changed. No one seemed to want to go trick-or-treating. So I did something I will regret for the rest of my life: I skipped a year. I didn't go. The world that night was divided into the free-candyful and the free-candyless, and I belonged to the latter. The next year, however, I was able to rally a group of my friends to go. Even I was amazed by the response we got as we made our way through our Brookline neighborhood. Only one person said, "Aren't you a little old for this?" The lady at the first house we went to even said she hoped her children were still trick-or-treating when they were our age. It was a great time, until my friends started setting themselves on fire on people's lawns.

You see, trick-or-treating is too often confused in people's minds with vandalism. The popular opinion goes that once you reach a certain age, you graduate from getting candy to knocking over trash cans, pouring liquid latex in car locks and holding up old people for their OxyContin. But where's the fun in that? Any night of the year you can put toilet paper in someone's tree. But I defy you to ring someone's doorbell in June and ask him or her for candy. They just won't give it to you — even if you're wearing a hockey mask — especially if you're wearing a hockey mask.

This is why Halloween is special and sacred and that's why I have to go. Sure, you'll find some religious types saying that it's immoral to dress up as demons and witches, but it's untrue. The real monsters of Halloween are the people who give out pennies, or bags of popcorn, or, god forbid, Mary Janes. Those people are sick. And don't even get me started on the people who turn out their lights and pretend to not be home. Who do you think you're fooling? If I were the egging type, you'd be the first against the wall.

Hey, doesn't all this talk of eggings and disgusting, vaguely peanut-based candy make you long for your own bygone days of trick-or-treating? Then indulge that feeling! Trick-or-treat this year. What's the worst that can happen? OK, there's a lot that could go wrong — from getting arrested to getting hit by a car to public humiliation in front of everyone you hold dear. But isn't it worth it for free candy? No? Well, more for me then. I may look ridiculous come Halloween night, but I'll have a sack full of smiles. And another sack full of candy. Mwa-ha-ha!

Man, nothing I enjoy more than reliving past glories. By the way, on the list of things I learned this weekend from yesterday, I forgot to mention that I learned that bowling should only be attempted in combination with beer. That was truly a crucial discovery. Anyone else have any nuggets of wisdom they'd like to share?