The Orange Occult

I destroyed a giant pumpkin this weekend. Our fallen soldiers would have wanted it that way, and on Veteran’s day/weekend, who was I to deny them this freedom. To wit, I’d never smashed a pumpkin before, but the sound a cracking pumpkin makes is exactly what one would expect. And immensely satisfying. This was a giant pumpkin. So giant that I struggled to lift it even to waist level (not that I’m by any means a weight-lifter, but this orange behemoth must have weighed close to seventy pounds). Nevertheless, it had to go; no one is allowed to keep such a magnificent pumpkin sitting outside their house over a week after Halloween and not expect this treatment. And beyond being drunk on a mixture of liquids, and inhaling the PVC/fiberglass fumes of a terrible backyard bon-fire that involved lawn chairs (and probably violated the Kyoto Protocol), it was simply the right thing to do.

Now I’m not sure if I did the literal smashing, or whether my friend Mike did, but the result was the same. And I certainly initiated the bloodthirsty move.

It was one of those weekends. The homeowner has probably had an awful week due to my rage. People get quite attached to their pumpkins, and pumpkins depend on their owners for protection. Such a ritual is involved in pumpkin selection. You get your family together and drive down to the local ambiguous field of grass. There they are, spread across the yard, and you get choosy. That ones much too lopsided, that one has gray spots, this one is filled with strange parasitic beetles. But then there it is; the fruit that will be with you through the autumn. It will scare and delight. It’s not unlike adopting some small orange child, and in the end equally as delicious.

Then you wake up one cool Sunday morning and see its stringy brains scattered across the street. Why! But you’ll never get that answer, smashing a pumpkin is both a meaningless exercise of drunk ambition and a life changing event for the smashed. It signifies the beginning of those rough holidays, the ones that involve family and planning. Gifts and cash, over-time and terrible office parties. The fun of Halloween and all its innocence and simplicity lies decaying in your driveway. All at the hands of some tequila fueled drunk. So next Halloween, be sure to destroy any neighbors pumpkins, and spread a little piece of holiday sadness.