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Yes, actually. It's not the same game anymore. They all take their brats to the mall.
I can vouch for that. I was working on sunday when they decided to do the mall trick or treat. Need I even point out that halloween wasn't for another 4 days?

It's become a party day for adults...I hear that most of the costumes sold now are slut versions of this or that, and having visited this city's nicest costume store, I can vouch for that too.
Ever wanted to see a slutty bumble bee? Ask Max about that one. I can't even begin...

I can't say I like what's become of Halloween. Haunted houses that teach morals and kids pan-handling for candy at The Sunglass Hut so moms can shop instead of dedicating some parenting time to their brats :/

I saw so few people in costumes on Halloween proper. Being that I was in costume, I found it odd that I was the one getting the weird looks. I can remember a day when it was plain clothed people who were the strange ones.

To the 200 lbs. of potatoes query: Yup, and I'm glad that I'm not the only person who noticed the declining state of Halloween affairs over the last few years, and not only from the youth. Adults are corrupting the s**t out of it, but my concerns over their doing so are derived from a parochial slant. It's becoming a ******** tragic display of warped self-image. I'm pretty sure that if I had bothered to pay attention during the psych courses, I'd have an understanding (or, at the very least, a suppressed revoltion) of why most adult costumes have to lend themselves to prurient interest. My current opinion on this phenom stems from our most recent trip to the Magic Kingdom during the current Holiday Event Mass-Marketing jerk-off that Disney's become so well-known for. Everywhere: skimpy, nonsensically shiny superheroine outfits, gaudy satanic getups with the fabric stretched to point of protonic reversal and imperceptibly embarassing clashes of concept that come in the form of low-cut Sherlock Holmes costumes or cop uniforms made of plastic and every single one designed to aggressively show off a massive vibrating avalanche of stretched mommy gut. MONEY.

I think that it's mostly younger parents who regret having kids that are trying to convince themselves that they still enjoy a vibrant social perspective. I assume their thought process runs like this: I'll dress like a professional escort in public to draw eyes away from the two-year-old millstone that I'm pramming around in front of me. I can tell you that it almost works: I'm not looking at the stroller directly, but I'm definitely doing everything I can to avert my tender oculars away from the spandex-bound stack of misappropriated pancakes standing behind it, trying in desperate, hurried measure to find something more pleasant to look at such as, say, a hobo raping a watermelon.

I wish I had the guts to lay down the reality for these people but I hate confrontation. That confrontation is, in this case, the grotesque reality that adult novelty stores don't even have a decency policy for these kinds of purchases. And all this just made that for a month straight, the Happiest Place on Earth became anything but for those of us with at least a mild sense of shame. Big Thunder Mountain was never meant to walk among us, and especially not in a poorly-constructed Beatrix Kiddo getup.

I laughed until it hurt.
Just for the record.
The thunder mountain line was the icing.

Perfect sum-up.