Photo: Joshua Lyon

By Joshua Lyon

Halloween is a sacred holiday for me. As a latchkey kid, trick-or-treating offered a glimpse of adulthood, a chance to know what it feels like to run free through the night. Now that I’m older, it’s special for opposite reasons. I get to act like a kid again. With costumes and decor, I let my imagination run wild and weird without caring what people think. The veil thins, but across time instead of worlds, and I find comfort in honoring this.

The problem is, all that magic only exists against the backdrop of a gaggle of trick-or-treaters, bringing their infectious childlike wonder to each home they stop at. And ever since I moved into a house on a quiet street, despite being well-stocked with (full-sized!) candy bars—I’ve barely had any ghosts, zombies, or Harry Potters swing by. For three years in a row now. Something has to change.

That’s how I ended up here, welcoming Skelly into my life. Skelly is Home Depot’s ubiquitous, absurd 12-foot skeleton. You may have seen it lurking around your neighborhoods. And I hope you have, because that’s my goal: to be seen.

Read the story
Will Skelly bring all the kids to my yard?→

While Skelly has been around for a while now, it’s recently been redesigned with eight animated (sort of scary) LCD eye options. My hope, of course, is that they’ll serve as flashing beacons atop Skelly’s towering frame and finally bring trick-or-treaters—and thus the spirit of Halloween—to my door.

In six weeks I’ll know if my plan works. But in the meantime, I’ll take you on a journey of really getting to know Skelly. After receiving it in a huge box on my porch, assembling it, getting lost in those flashing eyes, and somehow getting it up and standing, I’ve picked up plenty of tips on how to best manage bringing one of these wonderful monstrosities into your life. Just don’t ask me where I’ll store the thing.

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Skelly’s scary new eyes are, well, scary. Photo: Joshua Lyon

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