Happy Back to Standard Time Day! It’s been a productive, decorative day on this side of the pond – installing curtain rods, acquiring Christmas accouterments and saying goodbye to the Halloween tchatchkes. On the subject of the latter, I regret to announce that the otherwise brilliant and crisp morning delivered an unhappy surprise. A few weeks ago my better half came up with the delightful idea of making a pumpkin snowman – three gourds stacked atop one another, clad with a scarf, belt and gloves. We used thin bamboo sticks to anchor the pumpkins together and branches for arms with tiny leaf-stuffed mittens on the end, so he could wave hello to the trick-or-treating kids. It turned out great and lots of compliments were to be had from visitors. This morning, however, we discovered that a misanthropic type or types had decapitated him and smashed his head across the street. We haven’t had the greatest of luck with our outside decorations; last Christmas a light-up doe was stolen from our front yard and never recovered. But even though Halloween was over, even though we didn’t have to go out and purchase a replacement, this particular act of vandalism really set me off. Unfortunately, smashing pumpkins isn’t just the name of a crummy 90’s emo band, it’s a deplorable Halloween “tradition.” Certain folk seem to acquire an endorphin rush by destroying every pumpkin they can find, and our innocent, happy little guy was just the latest victim.
Warning: Gruesome images follow.
The sheer futility of the exercise is staggering. Ultimately, it doesn’t really matter – their job done, the pumpkins would have all gone in the garbage on the next collection day. But to take the time to trespass onto someone else’s property to destroy something cute for what – because it was there? All smug in its cute pumpkin-ness? Joy in destruction is a concept that continues to elude me. It certainly speaks to the character, or lack thereof, of the pedestrian minds that spotted our pumpkin snowman and decided to strike. Not that I’m bitter or anything. Little @#$!ers.
In everything there are those who build and those who tear down. A while back a Chinese tourist in Egypt decided that what a 5000-year-old hieroglyphic really needed was his name scratched onto it. You may remember as well the story about the ancient Buddhas carved into hillsides in Afghanistan that were destroyed by the Taliban with rocket launchers. I’m not in any way suggesting that a little headless pumpkin snowman compares even remotely to such significant acts of cultural vandalism, but it’s a minuscule part of this larger trend that sees a portion of humanity dedicated to destroying what the rest of it is creating. You could even extrapolate this argument further and point to corporate entities that ravage landscapes in pursuit of profit, and strangle any attempt to legally prohibit them from doing it. It doesn’t even have to be corporations – look at the photos of what’s left of the Amazon rainforest, a bleak, yellowed, poisoned wasteland, now that enterprising gold prospectors have decided to set up shop. Far too many of us have chosen to be irredeemable Wreck-It Ralphs.
How do you swim against the tide? We can all probably remember a time in our childhood when we spent what seemed like hours carefully crafting a fortress of sand only to have a sibling stomp through it out of sheer petulance. There was little choice then but to begin the painstaking effort of rebuilding, grain by grain. So too must it be in later life. You can’t let yourself be intimidated out of creation by the fear that someone may come along and smash it to bits. Someone very well may. But the fact that we’re all still here, alive and continuing to thrive, leads me to believe that there are far more builders than wreckers in the world. There is a philosophical choice to be made, whether to believe that people are basically good or basically evil. I’ve always fallen into the former camp, despite my faith in such having been tested on numerous occasions. Fundamentally, the kids who thought it would be hilarious to smash our pumpkin snowman – as much as (a very small) part of me would enjoy seeing them flogged – aren’t psychopathic miscreants or agents of chaos. They weren’t out to cause me or my family any grievous harm. They’re just kids driven by hormones making a bad call. And I’m sure at some point in their lives someone has destroyed something they created, and they know how rotten it can feel. So I’m choosing to forgive, and vowing to make our Christmas exterior display even better. Gotta keep building that sandcastle, no matter how many times somebody kicks it down.
Unless our deer gets stolen again. Then I’m out for blood.