Pimp out your pumpkin this Halloween

Because of the lack of foliage available in Oakland to dazzle us with a palate of vivid autumn… Because of the lack of foliage available in Oakland to dazzle us with a palate of vivid autumn hues, it’s easy to forget that it is, indeed, fall. Lucky for me, I have my Dad calling on a weekly basis to alert me as to just how many leaves he’s raked and bagged over the course of the weekend.

However, I’m not Robert Frost, so leaves don’t really interest me. The one thing fall brings along with it besides chillier weather and sweaters is Halloween.

All Hallow’s Eve is one kick-ass holiday. When you’re a kid — and I use the term “kid” loosely — seeing as I trick-or-treated while I was legally an adult — when else can you knock on someone’s door, say “give me candy!” and they actually do it? As mature college students, it’s another justifiable reason to booze it up, besides it simply being Sunday.

There are a few staples that make Halloween more than just another day to drink yourself stupid. At the core of this festive day is the symbolic pumpkin.

There is a lot of pressure when selecting your personal icon of devilishness. Unless you are one of “those people” who insist on pumpkin shopping in the same manner in which Charlie Brown selects his Christmas Tree, allow this to serve as a surefire guide to picking that perfect pumpkin.

Color is a key component in any respectable pumpkin. You need to look for a fresh, crisp, “burnt orange” tint. Any shades of brown or green forming on the surface are completely unacceptable. If color is not given proper consideration, passersby will surely point at and mock the mis-pigmented pumpkin on your front stoop. Humiliation and shame are bound to ensue.

Once that perfect hue of orange is spotted, it’s best to inspect the vegetable for any soft spots or potential rotting. Any evidence of deterioration is a sure sign that the pumpkin in question is not in it for the long haul, and doesn’t stand a fighting chance of making it until Halloween. You want your pumpkin the same way frat guys like their chicks — fresh and young.

Regardless of what any gal may have told you, size does indeed matter — and pumpkins are no exception. The actual circumference of the pumpkin is a matter of personal preference and the amount of cash you’re willing to dish out on a decorative vegetable that is highly likely to fall victim to a-hole South Oakland pumpkin-smashers.

Large or small, any credible would-be jack-o’-lantern must have an adequate stem. This is an essential component for a few reasons. Most importantly, when the pumpkin is in the beginning of the carving process, a sturdy stem is required for easy removal of the top for continuation of the highly invasive and disturbing surgical process. More than anything, tall, strong stems are entirely en vogue for pumpkin attire this season. Short, stubby stumps went out with scrunchies and snap bracelets.

Remember, your pumpkin is a reflection of yourself. For your own sake, get with the program.

Once the ideal pumpkin is purchased, you’re free to do with it as you wish. For some, carving is much too traumatic and emotional — and therefore the pumpkin is left intact to sit for a longer stretch of time to harness the spirit of fall in the home. For those with more primal urges, carving is a politically correct method of releasing those carnal desires. Should you choose to dismember your pumpkin, be creative. Triangle eyes, nose and a mouth with a few teeth are far too elementary for those enrolled at such a hallowed (no pun intended) institution of higher learning. I’d like to see a mouth that spells out “Pittsburgh” in its teeth. Make your pumpkin your own. Recruiting the expertise of an art major is cheating, and frowned upon in the gourd-carving community.

No Halloween is complete without an honest-to-goodness pumpkin. Get out and buy yours now, before all the superior ones have been snatched. For all you pumpkin-smashing miscreants: Have you no souls? Keep your hands off. A lot of heartfelt consideration and debate goes into the selection of that perfect pumpkin.

Colleen Bayus believes pumpkin selection may very well be an art. E-mail her at: cab2357@pitt.edu.