Busting Pumpkins

With Halloween approaching, I find myself reminiscing about the pleasant late October evenings of my youth in Clinton, Illinois during the early 70’s. Football season, Homecoming, and the Apple & Pork festival, wrapped around Harvest Time and ending with Halloween, was always a favorite time of year.

The groups of guys that I “ran with” were good guys in that all had respected their parents and elders and in turn earned their respect. There was … one Halloween, when we became possessed by the mischievous nature of young teens.

As a child, the carving of the pumpkin was a family event. With a couple of large spoons, a big knife, a small knife, and old newspapers covering the table, the “Pumpkin Operation” was ready to begin. Removing the top from the pumpkin, revealing the stringy, pungent smelling “goo”, always resulted in a repulsive expression on my face. After cleaning out the cavity, the face was carved, candle inserted, and yes, we gave it a name before setting the new family member on our front porch.

Most of our pumpkins would make it through Halloween without incident, however, on two or perhaps three occasions, our pumpkin fell victim to unknown assassins by being smashed on the street in front of our home. I would later learn that my friends had also suffered their own losses. It was both a sad and frustrating time for all.

Many Halloweens later, my friends and I decided that we were going to assassinate a pumpkin. With painted faces and wearing dark clothes we went hunting for the perfect orange specimen in our small town. Between the five of us, we could not find a pumpkin that did not belong to someone near or dear to us! The frustration would build with every glowing pumpkin face that we decided to spare. From Yard to yard, bush to bush, our search continued. Running from barking dogs, sliding in dog droppings, sweating, dirty, tired, and smelling like barn animals, we spotted the perfect orange ball of “goo”.

The “mark” belonged to a retired English teacher that we all had in grade school. The pumpkin was big, I mean, 1/3 of a Volkswagen big! As we approached the “beast”, we immediately could see that the only thing between the retired English teacher and the pumpkin was a full-glass storm door. Sitting in her rocking chair, with her back to the door, we moved in for the kill.

It took three of us to lift the “oversized zucchini”. Taking short, choppy, small steps we quietly grunted and laughed our way from the door to the sidewalk with “King Kong” in tote. Not wanting to get caught, we wasted no time and immediately tried to bust the pumpkin. I said, “we tried”. The giant pumpkin would not break! It bounced! We tried four times, laughing at each failure. One guy that tried kicking it only managed to hurt his foot. We were done! Quickly, we hoisted the “stubborn fruit” back to its original spot on the English teachers front porch, and left.

As I walked home, I wondered, if it was by accident or a result of years of wisdom, that our retired English teacher chose an unbreakable pumpkin. I am sure it was the later. Approaching my home, I was greeted by a smashed pumpkin in the middle of the street. I could’nt help but think, “what kind of jerk would go out Busting Pumpkins”!

Driving - A New Baby and Idiots

This morning my youngest child, that has been driving a little over a year, took his first (that I know of) short trip in his car - by himself. While the trip is only an hour away, it may as well be five hours away. I remember the first time my other two children embarked on their first "trips", I was terrified, like today.

I was a very coachable athlete to the extent that I would prefer death over not doing something I was coached to do. To mention a few: In Baseball, "come up throwing", "run thru the bag", and "keep the ball in front of you". In Basketball, "defend the BASELINE", "block out", and "no cross court passes". In Football, "carry the ball in the arm AWAY from the defender", "hit the hole", "protect the football". Of course in all sports that I know of, "shuffle your feet, NEVER cross them".

On any given night, I can watch million dollar athletes NOT doing the above. "Professionals", "the best of the best", all fallible in technique & judgement. My point? The road is full of non-professional drivers.

When it came time to take my wife and first born home from the hospital (many years ago), I loaded them both into the back seat then joyously leaped into the drivers seat. Checking my mirrors, with a foot on the brake, before putting the car into drive, my joyous celebration melted. My smile and "glow" melted into a hard frown and a "Hulk like" transformation took place. I realized then, that the roads were full of idiots and I felt like I was getting ready to run for my life, carrying a football (wife and baby), that everyone wanted to cause harm to.

We made it home without incident like my two oldest children. At this point I am still waiting for the youngest to return from his first mini trip. While I have practiced and preached the following to each of my children, I find myself praying that the youngest listened.

I believe a speed limit is just that, a LIMIT. Some believe it is the suggested speed in which one should drive (if you add an additional 5-10 mph).

I believe that when the speed LIMIT is not being followed by the majority, you conform and "keep up with traffic".

I believe in constantly rotating my vision from the left mirror, to the road, the rear view mirror, back to the road, the passenger side mirror, and finally back to the road before starting the process all over again. Some choose the "I'm chillin" driving position where they can barely, if at all, see out the windows"

I believe, when I am in traffic, that the "tunes" need to be turned off so I can HEAR that which I may not see. Some choose to continue playing their bass banging, blown-speaker-rattling STUFF that I cannot even bring myself to call tunes.

I believe that the hand position on the steering wheel should be in a 10 & 2 position (10 o'clock and 2 o'clock). Again, the "chillin" position is preferred by many with MAYBE one thumb on the steering wheel in the 6 o'clock position.

I believe in the 4 or even 5 second interval. For example: as the vehicle in front of you passes an object (sign, building, pavement change, etc.) count the number of seconds it takes for your vehicle to pass the same point and adjust your speed to maintain the four or five second interval. Some people .... whatever.

I believe in always reducing my speed to a crawl, if necessary, when children or animals are in view. Some people just gun their engines making that "manly", they think it's manly, noise for whatever reason.

I believe, that as a healthy individual, in parking the furthest away from the front doors of Wal-Mart and to not participate in the parade of horn honking, engine revving, door dinged, finger waving drivers vying for one of the "top ten premium" parking spots.

I believe that a handicapped parking spot is for the handicapped.

I know that I can always control my vehicle if I can keep two tires (one front, one back, same side of the car) on the pavement when being forced off the road.

I know that if my youngest adheres to the above, he too will return home safely. In-Between Swing Sets, the one he played on as a child, and the next one he will enjoy as an Uncle and/or Father, is both a learning & implementation process.