This was not trick or treating on Park Avenue. A misty damp evening in a blue collar suburb of New Jersey, where homes are small and Halloween decorating is large. Children slide along  the sidewalks. Each knock on the door followed by a minute or two of silence, then a screen-door opens to a  new greeting of delight. Every door cracks a view on life, a complicated existence made of long commutes and tough mortgage payments, coupon clippings and  Sunday garage sales. Candy is given out carefully taken in excitement and slipped in large wore out pillowcases.  The buzz on the streets interrupted by sparse dog barking and porch lights coming on and off  as preparations begin for a Saturday night celebration of fall festivity.  This is what America is about, work and recompense, expectation and reward that  turns small town to big time.