Oh my gourd!

     I feel like an irresponsible mother. The very same pumpkin I brought into the world Friday at Lobotomy, I immediately and blindly handed to a nameless face never knowing if we’d meet again. Did I love my pumpkin? Yes, I did. I spent a great deal of time and effort crafting it, and had every intention of finding it. Would we meet again? Or were we destined to live a life apart? The journey begins now.

    To make sure my idea was fully and honorably constructed, I needed a large canvas to work with, and so sought out a pumpkin with a large enough face to begin my knife-work on. And from my admiration for classic video games, stemmed forth the idea to carve Pac-Man gobbling up dots on its shiny orange face. A tribute to my inner-nerd? Perhaps, but more so decided on the basis of carving a design I knew I could pull off, as I’m only slightly more artistically proficient than my 9 year-old cousin.

    Ninety minutes, and a torn and bloody thumb later, my gourd design was complete. More than satisfied with my efforts I registered my pumpkin in hopes of toppling Boston for the world record, but not without a twinge of remorse.

    Desperate thoughts of eternal separation raced through my mind, and they were hard to suppress, but an eventful Friday evening quelled my pain.

    Surrounded by friends and family, I set out on an epic journey to find my creation at the 2009 Pumpkin Festival on Saturday. As we strolled up and down Main Street I made everyone around me swear to not utter a word if they spotted my carving. Pumpkins were littered absolutely everywhere, and it truly felt as if I was searching for a needle in a haystack.

    I searched everywhere for my Pac-Man pumpkin. I looked on side-streets, curbs, and even inside a Post Office drop-off spot, and yet my efforts proved fruitless. Though we spent only hours together, I still wished we could have reunited under the crisp, cool autumn air.

    But alas, like many relationships, it just wasn’t meant to be.

    The sense of elation I saw painted on the faces of those indeed successful in their fervent hunt for pumpkin reunion was enough for me to enjoy the day. I knew my Pac-Man pumpkin was out there somewhere, hopefully relaying my gaming message to its viewers.

    I’ll never forget my Pac-Man carving. It was the pinnacle of my artistic ability, and even if I’ll never see it again, I find solace in knowing it was out there for Festival-goers to revel (optimistic) at. And if there is no Pumpkin Festival in 2010, I’ll thankfully have this precious memory to have and to hold, forever and always.

Eddie Makuch can be contacted at emakuch@keeneequinox.com.