Pirate Toy Fund
As I stare at the blinking cursor after each word I write, I wonder…did someone test different blinking speeds? Do faster blinking cursors cause insanity? I think I need a slower blinking cursor.
On Christmas Eve, I donated all of my crane game winnings to the Pirate Toy Fund. The organization gives donated toys to local children in need. On the way to the collection center, I asked my brother to stop by Tully’s so I could win five more to make the grand total twenty five. The last time I was there, I won fourteen. Ten dollars later and we walk out empty handed. I should have stuffed dollar bills into the toys instead of feeding the machine dollar after dollar.
The crane game operator must have changed the setting. I stood there staring into machine.
“The oasis has dried up.” My brother says.
“It rigged now…” I reply.
“Time to go man, time to go.”
“Ok.”
Something has changed… I’ve been on a losing streak. Well, other then my big head Mrs. Santa win at the mall the other day, I haven’t been able to pull out anything regularly. Maybe this is a sign. Time to move on.
My brother and I drive to the closest collection center which is at the grocery store. On the way to the front door we pass a man that looks like he’s going to pull out gun at anytime. We steer clear and walk to the other sliding doors on the opposite side. The lines are incredibly long and people are streaming out with full carts. We fight our way to the bin. I feel like Santa holding the trash bag over my shoulder.
The bin is overflowing with board games, puzzles, stuffed animals, and toy trucks. I open up my white trash bag of toys and pull out the grey elephant. I smile as my brother snaps a picture. I put the elephant back into the bag and close it up.
It feels good to know that a child will get a present for Christmas.
We walk out to the car and the gun wielding man is gone. Thank God he didn’t select us.
Merry Christmas.
Jingle Bells (Monkey Go Bananas! remix)
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Toy smuggling
The weekend in Canada was wonderful but getting back into the United States was another. I was going to leave on Sunday but the Fuck Buttons w/ Growing happen to be performing at the El Mocambo Monday night. I invited my cousin to come along. Cool venue. Fun night. Mind melting show.
Before I hit the road the next morning, she emails me.
I’m sitting here at work, thinking to myself…. “I wonder if my ears have legitimately stopped ringing, or whether I just got so used to it that I just don’t notice it anymore…??? Just wanted to thank you again for showing me a different side of Toronto.”
I left shortly after rush hour and get to the border fairly quickly. It’s 11am.
“Citizenship?”
“United States.”
He looks at my passport.
“Are you bringing anything back with you?”
“Nope.”
“Nothing at all? You didn’t buy any gifts? Souvenirs?”
“Nope. Nothing.”
“Are you sure?” He asks again.
“I didn’t buy anything.”
“Pop your trunk.”
He walks to the back of the car and wraps on the car.
As I press the button, I realize that I have a trunk full of stuffed animals. The trunk pops open and he starts to rummage thought my things. He looks up and calls in backup. Now I have two US Custom agents pulling stuffed toys out of the back of car.
I wait but now I’m fucking nervous. It feels like I’ve been caught smuggling drugs wrapped in balloons sewn into teddy bears and oversized x-mas frogs. The agent closes the trunk and walks back to my window.
“Where did you buy all those stuffed animals?” He asks.
“I won them from a crane game.”
He looks at me like I’m a drug smuggler.
“What?”
I simulate the claw with my hand and move it up and down.
“Yeah, it’s a big glass box filled with stuffed animals that has a claw. You use this joystick thing and a claw drops down to pick up a toy.” Sweat beads up on my forehead. I move my hand up and down some more.
“Where?”
“In the United States.”
“Where in the United States?”
“At a rest-stop off the 490 or 390 or um maybe it was the 290. I think it’s the Clarence Plaza.” I stutter while pointing into the land of the free.
I’m thinking his next words will be “Why don’t you just pull up to the left there so we can ask you a few more questions.” A few more agents would swarm my vehicle, start pulling out all my stuffed winnings, cut them all open and rip out all the insides.
“Go ahead.” He says.
“Thank you sir.”
Maybe next time I should shave and not wear my grey Canadian beanie.
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A Chuck Norris.
After driving for a bit, I need to find a rest stop. I pass a “Welcome to Hamilton” sign. What’s in Hamilton Canada? I’m not sure but there is a crane game at a rest stop there. The best part is that it’s a “everyone is a winner” game. I encountered one of these before but didn’t know it at the time. I kept pulling out toys thinking I was the all time champion of champions. The machine I am standing in front of has two claws. The right side is filled with huge heavy stuffed toys that look like they’ve been there since the early 90’s and the left side has small little cute stuffed ones.
I didn’t have any Canadian money with me so I buy a hamburger and get a bunch Loonies & Toonies. (For some reason Canadians call there one and two dollar coins by these names.) No idea.
I pretty much figure out after my first round at the large toys, a win is not going to happen. Since it’s a “everyone is a winner,” I get to keep playing until I pull out a small toy from the left side. My first two plays I win a super cute snowman and a white teddy bear with a scarf. Technically, I didn’t win shit. It took me a couple of attempts but in the end I’m pretty much just buying these things for two bucks. No real fun in that so my next play I make a game of it. How many toys can I pull out with one grab.
A few times, one toy would be in the claws and I’d accidentally bump the machine so it would drop. It was late and the rest stop was dead. I’m in the clear. I’d look over my shoulder and shake it loose. When someone did walk by, I just move the crane claw around, killing time. Finally, I lined up two toys for a single grab. The claw drops onto the pile but pushes deeper than I wanted. Damn it. Moments later the claw comes up with THREE TOYS!!! A green frog, yellow puppy, and an orange caterpillar drop into the collection bin. I laugh because I remember convincing my little brother in the early 80’s that Chuck Norris was a famous Caterpillar.
It’s 1980 something and we are visiting my grandparents in Buffalo. My youngest brother was in elementary school at the time. I’m sitting at the kitchen table reading. He walks in waving a piece of paper. The drawing is perfect. He drew and colored in tree branch with a green caterpillar inching across. He is happy about his creation and I look it with surprise.
“Hey! You drew a Chuck Norris!”
“A what?”
“A Chuck Norris. This is Chuck Norris, The Famous Caterpillar.”
“It’s a Chuck Norris? What’s that?”
“Yea, A Chuck Norris, you know, The Famous Caterpillar.”
His face lights up and looks up at me. Trusting. I’m his older brother. Why would I lie to him?
“A Chuck Norris, The Famous Catapilla.” He says smiling.
“You should go show everyone and tell them what you drew.”
I watch my brother run into the next room which was filled with my parents, extended family, and friends. I listen.
“Mom! Dad! Look! Look!”
“What do you have there?” My Dad asks.
The room goes quiet.
“A Chuck Norris!!! Chuck Norris, The Famous Catapilla.”
“A what? Who told you that?” My Mother asks.
As soon as I hear this, I disappear into the basement and find my other brother. What is he up to? And how can I rope him into this?
To this day, my brother and I bring it up and laugh.
As we get older, get married, get divorced, we are always there for each other. Brotherhood. It’s something that I cherish.
I suppose I’d like to say I’m sorry little bro for locking you in the closet and shaking pepper all over you yelling, “Sneeze! Sneeze! Sneeze!” Or explaining that deodorant goes to wherever there is bend on your body, or the times I’d fall to ground faking a seizure.
Or the time…
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Citizenship.
Last weekend I smuggled two crane game toys into Canada. Now I can finally check the Clarence Travel Plaza off my list. The crane game machine has two claws. Play the one on the right, the left one is rigged. Four dollars got me two nice stuffed Christmas themed toys; a white bear with a winter hat and a matching scarf, and a green fog with a red cape. I’m not sure why the red cape makes it Christmas but the tag said so.
The woman who was filling a vending machine walked up to me smiling.
ribbit
“Awww. Cute. You won a Christmas Frog!”
“I did! I’m so excited. Cool, huh!”
“Very cool. How much did that cost you?”
“One dollar.” I lied.
“One dollar? Wow. You must be good.”
“I am.”
We both laugh but then I feel guilty for lying. As I walk away, I resist the urge to turn around to her that I spent twenty dollars and have a problem with crane games.
I walk out holding two toys. I feel like dancing.
When I make it to Canadian customs, I’m nervous. I have no idea why I get anxiety other than maybe someday they will scan my passport and say, “We’ve been looking for you.” She asks me all the standard questions.
“Are you bringing anything into Canada?”
“Yes, a six-pack of Bud Light Golden Wheat.”
What? It’s good. I don’t want it to be but it is. I know, we’re all victims of the evil marketing machine behind Bud Light. I surrender.
“Anything else?”
“No. Nothing else.”
“Go head. Welcome to Canada.”
“Thank you, you too.”
You too… As I pull away, her eyes look down into passenger seat and she sees the two stuffed toys sitting upright. I look up at her, smile and drive to the QEW ramp.
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