I Will Not Steal Pumpkins

I Will Not Steal Pumpkins. I Will Not Steal Pumpkins. I Will Not Steal Pumpkins. I Will Not Steal Pumpkins. I Will Not Steal Pumpkins. I Will Not Steal Pumpkins. I Will Not Steal Pumpkins.

If you're wondering about my little mantra, it is true that in the past I have stolen pumpkins. This 6'3" black male has been known to run to doorsteps and house pumpkins and jack-o-lanterns round this time of year.

Why would one do such things? Well the answer is multifaceted, as most explanations are when dealing with me. One reason is because it seems like some missed boyhood rite I missed out on living in the city. One of the intriguing things about living in the middle of nowhere is actually seeing Main Street, this concept that the media has bemoaned the loss of. It just seems American. Another reason is the adrenaline rush. Last year, one of my chosen sites had a group of very possessive dogs. Let's just say that mission was unsuccessful. I did learn I would have survived the civil rights era because of my ability to outrun dogs and jump in moving vehicles. Lastly, it was just fun, a release from the responsibility that I am constantly trying to avoid.

And this is the main reason I need to stop. As I have actually taken the initiative to move out and pay bills on my own, stealing pumpkins just seems like a step backwards. I mean I've gone from being "Hey I have no cash for the movies" broke to being "Hey do I really need to get that drink because if I open the fridge, the light being on might be the kilowatt that pushes my electrical bill over the top" broke. And seriously my house is a mess already. housing pumpkins is something I'm not equipped to do.

Alas a part of me already misses it. But my childishness can be supported by the cartoon DVDs that I will continue to buy and the kids I work with, who wonderfully keep me in touch with my inner 11 year old, when they're not getting in holds. I won't miss the smell when they rot though.