“A Resume Built on Responsibility and Good Judgement”
A funny story inspired by three powerful quotes:
No. 1: “There are three things I’ve learned never to discuss with people: religion, politics, and the Great Pumpkin.” – Linus van Pelt in It’s The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown
No. 2: “That’s much too vulgar a display of power,” – the demon Pazuzu/Regan MacNeil in The Exorcist
and…
No. 3: ” ___________” – Jason Voorhees in Friday the 13th, Parts I – VlI.
Like Linus, I told myself I’d never discuss the Great Pumpkin with anyone but, here I am and here it is:
I had been working two jobs for one and a half years while looking for a career in law enforcement. One of those jobs was working for a small private security company in California.
Shortly after being hired, the owners of the company, (two brothers and a church Deacon), strongly encouraged me to get a permit to carry a firearm so I could work as an armed security officer. At the time, they only had two and this would certainly be advantageous to have on my resume.
But, because of my dark sense of humor, I often wondered what in the world made them trust me enough to carry a gun so quickly after being hired…and oddly, after all these years, I still wonder.
This story takes place on Saturday, October 22, 1994.
Saturday, 9:00 a.m.: I received a call from Gerald, one of the two brothers and one-third owner of the security company. Gerald asked, pleaded, begged me to work an armed detail at the Alameda County Fairgrounds.
“As you know, the Fairgrounds has their big Halloween to-do they put on every year.”, he began.
“No, actually I didn’t know”, I responded, giddy with excitement. Halloween is my favorite holiday, whatever the assignment is, it’s going to be great!
He went on to tell me that the other two armed security officers “couldn’t” work that evening and he absolutely needed an armed officer to protect…
“I’ll do it!” I interrupted with unbridled excitement. I’m never one to pass up an opportunity to protect the fine citizens of California; a resume builder for certa..”.. a pumpkin.” he finished.
“I’m sorry, a what? Wait..what am I doing?” I asked, I really can’t believe my ears.
Gerald went on to explain that the Great Pumpkin, the largest pumpkin in California weighing about 800 pounds, was expected to show up at the fairgrounds.
“And exactly how many people do they think the Great Pumpkin will try to kill that they need armed security?” I asked with all the wit and sarcasm I could muster. “I mean really, what am I supposed to do, just sit around a pumpkin patch all night piling up the bodies of all the fair-goers that look at this gourd the wrong way.”, I added, minus the wit and sarcasm.
“Ummmmm..” <long pause while I’m sure Gerald carefully considered wether I was joking or if they’ve made a horrible mistake in allowing me to carry a gun> “I think you’re just supposed to make sure no one steals the stupid thing.”
“I’d love to see that. I really wish I could actually see someone steal an 800 pound pumpkin!” …I said, secretly praying somebody would. I admit I was a bit disappointed that I’d already committed myself to this (and realized why the other two armed guards “couldn’t” do it). Gerald instructed me to be at the front gate of the fairgrounds at 5:30 p.m. for briefing. He said the assignment was from 6:00 p.m. to midnight. With a deflating *sigh* I told him I’d see him there. He detected the disappointment in my voice and apologized profusely, probably for deliberately replacing the word “wouldn’t” with “couldn’t”. He knew he played me.
As I hung up the phone I assured myself that this would be the worst night ever. This might actually be worse than my previous armed security detail which was guarding Thomas Kinkade while he painted a picture in front of an audience of seventy elderly woman. It was quite literally like watching paint dry, oil on canvas to be precise. Well, I didn’t shoot Thomas or his painting and probably won’t shoot the pumpkin either so at least I’m building a resume on responsibility and good judgement.
Saturday, 5:30 p.m.: Briefing was held by Gerald and Dave the Deacon, affectionately known as Deacon Dave. Twelve security officers showed up including myself, all getting fun assignments patrolling the Haunted Fairgrounds except me, waiting reluctantly to hear them direct me to the Great Pumpkin.
“Officer Morgan, it seems the pumpkin is a no-show, so sorry to break the news.” Gerald said with a grin and added, “and I do actually believe it WAS stolen.” I don’t normally discuss religion but, sometimes prayers do get answered.
Gerald informed me that due to the pumpkin’s absence, the Fair Board had decided they would like armed security for two “” “” “”celebrities “” “” “” using an obscene amount of air-quotes around the word celebrities leading me to believe I traded guarding a pumpkin for perhaps Barney the Dinosaur or Big Bird. There goes my resume built on responsibility and good judgement. Reluctantly I asked who the “” “” “” celebrities”” “” “” (mimicking the excessive air-quotes), were. Gerald said he didn’t really know who they were and Deacon Dave cocked an eyebrow and slowly shook his head from side to side as if to convince me he didn’t know either.
Gerald rifled through his event plan.. “Ahh, here it is.. it’s.. umm, a Linda Blair and a Kane Hoeder (sic)”. My mind lit up, “You mean Kane Hodder? Are you serious!?” This just turned into one of the best nights ever! He asked if I actually knew who they were. October is my favorite month, Halloween is my favorite holiday and Horror is my favorite genre; you bet I know who they are. “Kane Hodder played hockey mask-clad campground slasher Jason Voorhees in the last three Friday the 13th movies! And Linda Blair, little Regan MacNeil in The Exorcist! Demon possessed, head spinning, split pea soup spewing, jamming a crucifix into her…”
As I gave my excited rendition on the horror icons’ achievements, I observed Deacon Dave’s eyebrows rise to meet his hairline as the corners of his mouth drooped. He looked like a frightened Muppet which led me to believe he knew more about The Exorcist then he had let on and knew exactly where she jammed it. I was sure that a silent prayer was running through his mind, ” Please Lord, make Jason shut the fff.. “
More than one prayer was answered that evening; I immediately shut the fff.. Always knowing just how far to push while still maintaining a level of professionalism and decorum expected from my supervisors. Maybe that’s why they trusted me.
So, Jason, (me, not the campground slasher), is now guarding some true celebrities. I know you’re all making the obvious comparisons, The Bodyguard with Kevin Costner, In the Line of Fire with Clint Eastwood but, if I’m being honest and I wish I weren’t, it was more like an episode of Scooby-Doo with a guest appearance by Don Knotts as Barney Fife.
Gerald advised that the celebrities would be at the exit of the haunted house to sign autographs and I was to ensure that no one harasses them. No One Harasses Them. NO ONE HARRAS.. “Uh, you do see the humor in this right?” I asked. “I’m supposed to make sure no one harasses Kane Hodder, six-two, 230 pounds, machetes teens for a living?” I pull my arms out and upward from my midriff with a flourish as if I’m presenting a spectacular new product, “If you haven’t noticed, I’m five-six on a good day and 124 pounds in full uniform. If it gets to the point where Kane needs my help does that mean I get to start shooting people?” I said, ….obviously joking, ……… obviously,…….right?
“You are joking, right?” Deacon Dave said with his signature raised eyebrow thing, “Let’s try not to shoot anyone, it’s bad for business.” He then gave a light chortle indicating he knew I was joking, or was pretty sure, or just praying that I was.
Gerald asked if I knew where I was going, which I didn’t. He offered to draw a map. I told him not to bother. For those of you that know me or have read my previous blog you know I have no sense of direction. I admitted to Gerald, “You know, you could staple the map to my forehead and I’d still get lost in 39 steps?” With a deep sigh he nodded in agreement. I left them with, ” Well, I better get going before Kane gets molested in my absence.” Audible groaning could be heard as I turned and walked away.
The fairgrounds were dark, illuminated by dimly lit Halloween lights. I decided not to take the paved path and wound my way between vendors’ booths, around attractions, through a forest of trees draped in cobwebs and artificial fog all the while being subjected to taunts by teen fair-goers, “What are you supposed to be?” Fair enough question for sure. The uniform was navy blue pants, a navy blue Stetson cowboy hat, a navy blue uniform shirt with a silver star and bright orange patches on either sleeve with an eyeball in the center of the patches. This question wasn’t limited to Halloween, it was year round. But, after the sixth person in just as many minutes, I swore I’d shoot the next person that asked. ‘Much too vulgar a display of power’ Pazuzu might say but so be it, I’m lost as usual and not in the mood.
Saturday, 6:00 p.m.: Aaaahhhhh! There it is at last. I finally made it to the front of the haunted house. A line was already forming to enter. Most structures have just four sides so finding the exit should be nooooo…kay there is a problem. I rounded the first corner and quickly deduced that this structure must have been purchased at IKEA and came without assembly instructions. If you could see this mess from above I guarantee the layout would look like a child tried to draw an octopus on an Etch-A-Sketch. Numerous long narrow halls jutting outward in various directions, some curving, some curling, some “T”-ing. No one was getting out of there, what a nightmare. But not my problem, my problem was finding Linda and Kane and convincing them I was capable of providing some level of safety and security.
I finally found them in a corded off area sitting in director’s chairs in front of a mural depicting their on-screen hijinks in graphic details. The only thought as I approached was, ‘please don’t ask me what I’m supposed to be’, for sure the outcome would be bad for business and my resume.
Linda and Kane were surprised and excited that they were getting the star-treatment by having their very own security, regardless of the size. The three of us sat around talking for about two and a half hours. No one was around to harass my celebrities or ask for autographs. Kane made a comment that perhaps no one was going into the haunted house. I assured him that people were definitely going in, they were just never coming out…ever.
About thirty minutes later, the first of the unfortunate fools to have entered the haunted octopus exited. Confused and exhausted. They searched for water, loved ones, hope, but they weren’t going to find any of that here. They staggered away into the dark night. The last thing on their minds was photo-ops and autographs, mute reminders of the horror they had just endured.
After another thirty minutes it was obvious that someone with a talent for organizing the unorganizable, (apparently not a real word but it should be), streamlined the octopus and people were getting through with their sanity intact. The lines for autographs were growing. One young lad exited the haunted house and ran past the lines toward my charges with a Sharpie pen gripped in one hand and his arm cocked in a “V”.
“Whoa Norman Bates! What do you think you’re doing?” I demanded. Stunned, he admitted he was just excited and wanted to have his shirt signed. Linda overheard, eased over, smiled, asked Norman his real name, and gleefully signed his shirt which, I’ll admit, was sure better than me grabbing Norman by the shirt collar, dragging him to the back of the column of people while giving him a lecture on Socialism and the importance of standing in lines.
Sunday, 12:00 a.m. : The fairgrounds are closing, guests are shuffling out, lampposts are being lit to guide their way. Other than little Norman Bates my presence was unnecessary but well appreciated. Kane, Linda and I bid each other a fond farewell. All I had to do now is find my way back to the main gate.
I decided to go back the way I had come and in a record breaking 27 steps, I was lost. I decided to use the paved path, I’m in no rush. Up ahead I can see a well illuminated grassy area near a lamppost. Within the casted light appeared to be my worst nightmare.
A trailer fabricated to look like an old wooden cart and nestled within it was a giant orange ball. ‘No, this can’t be!’ As I move closer, I can see a man facing the cart and fondling, stroking, caressing what undoubtedly has to be the Great Pumpkin. ‘eh-hem’, I cleared my throat to get the man’s attention. He turned, seeming a bit flustered and gave me a squinty-eyed gaze scanning me top to bottom and asked me the potentially fatal question, “Whatta you ‘sposed to be?
“‘Good grief, now I gotta shoot someone!” All right, slow down Dirty Harry! I pondered carefully the weak foundation upon which my resume currently stood, took some deep breaths, he’s old, squinty and I caught him off guard, I’ll give Mr. Magoo here a break… this time. I explained to Magoo that I was fairgrounds security and asked him the obvious question, “Did you steal it?”, waving my hand toward the giant pumpkin. “No, I haven’t stole it….”, he cut off his reply in such a way that made me certain he was going to end that sentence with the word, “yet!” He has a sense of humor, I like him already.
He asked, “Do you think you can watch it while I go get a truck and get this outta here? I don’t want someone ELSE to steal it!” Feeling guilty that there had been some sort of miscommunication regarding the arrival of the pumpkin, I felt a sense of duty to at least provide some protection. The man thanked me with an uncertain tone before skittering off in one direction, then another and finally off in yet another like he was confused or lost. ‘I know the feeling my old friend.’
I sat with the pumpkin, waiting, much like Linus waiting for the Great Pumpkin to come and deliver toys I instead, waited for deliverance. Minutes ticked by adding up to what seemed like an eternity and then I heard the sound of an old truck approaching. The old man backed the truck up to the trailer. I noticed that there wasn’t a ball hitch, just a large hex-head bolt screwed into the rear metal bumper. The old man pulled out a large ball of thick twine and asked if I could help him. I felt obligated after all, so I helped him as he tied one end of the twine to the trailer drawbar and began winding the twine around the drawbar up to the bolt and around the trucks rear bumper. Now, I didn’t know a lot about towing vehicles but, chances were in the high 90’s that this was absolutely not the way you tethered a trailer to a vehicle.
The old man gave two toots of the horn as he drove down the path towing the Great Pumpkin. The further he drove, the smaller the Great Pumpkin got and the smaller the Great Pumpkin got, the more I reflected on this evening. The more I reflected, the more I focused on the old man’s words and the more I focused on what he had said, the more certain I was that he had just stolen the Great Pumpkin. I actually did get to see someone steal an 800 pound pumpkin. What do you know, wishes do come true. I lazily followed the path the old man drove, not expecting to catch up to him but assuming he knew better than I how to get out of there.
Sunday, 1:00 a.m.: I left the fairgrounds with my resume and the security companies good name intact. Driving home I was considering how quickly circumstances in life change. Prayers answered, wishes granted and by the turn of the screw, potentially the worst night turned into one of the best; my apologies to Henry James. I had the honor of spending most of the night with two horror movie icons instead of a giant vegetable.
As for the incident with the Great Pumpkin, I never spoke of it and swore I never would. I promised myself that if I was ever asked about it I would respond with my favorite quote: “__________ “, – Jason Voorhees in Friday the 13th, Parts I-VII.
