Published 2001-10-31T00:00:00Z”/>

<strong>It’s that time of year again</strong>

Prepare to be terrified, because the flames of the underworld are stoked and Cerberus, the hell-hound himself, is rearing all of his gnashing heads.

I’m not talking about demons, evil pirate ghosts or drooling, angry mutts snarling in stereo. I’m not even talking about the hoards of drunken Halloween revelers from Wherever, Calif., who come here to throw the monkey wrench of chaos into the works. I’m referring to the tension between the student-age population of this town and the people who run it. If it were a guitar string, Halloween is the pick that plucks it.

For example, people who saw last year’s Halloween might fondly remember the police camp that sprang up in the park downtown Halloween night. Though we were all safe and protected from all those people who pretend to hit us with light sabers, I kind of missed the bands that used to play there.

Also, flooding the streets with officers not only provokes obnoxious and unruly behavior from those who drunkenly appoint themselves as social commentators, it also tends to give Fifth Street a Third-World look that does not photograph well, and adds drama to the stories going back home to Sacramento. This, Grasshopper, actually makes the ruffians more interested in coming here.

Other, less relevant examples of this tension include St. Patrick’s Day, which for the last two years has mysteriously coincided with the new, relocated spring break, as well as the growing restrictions on alcohol consumption, which far exceed those of most other towns.

Peter Kimmich can be reached at:

<a href= “mailto:%[email protected]”>[email protected]</a>