Working like a dog for chance at gourd glory

Hey there, time traveller!
This article was published 28/10/2020 (2123 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

If I have learned anything in my 64 years on the planet, it is this — the moment you climb into the bathtub, either the phone will ring or someone will pound on your front door.

So I was not surprised Thursday morning when, seconds after immersing myself in hot water and leaning back to read the newspaper, the morning calm was shattered by the sound of someone knocking on the door.

What with being a highly trained professional newspaper columnist, I jumped out of the tub, climbed into my ratty blue bathrobe, staggered down the hallway, and bravely threw open the door.

There in front of me, wearing a mask and clutching a large tote bag, was Corey Quintaine, the affable marketing manager for Kildonan Place Shopping Centre.

Inside the tote bag was a large pumpkin that Corey was delivering to my front doorstep so that, for the 12th straight year, I could take part in Carving for a Cause, the mall’s annual celebrity pumpkin-carving contest.

For the past 11 years, butcher knife in hand, head filled with visions of glory, I have descended on the mall’s centre court in October to do battle in their gourd throwdown, wherein 14 teams of media personalities are given an hour to whip up state-of-the-art jack-o-lanterns in support of our favourite charities.

This year, however, things are just a little different. COVID-19 precautions prevented us media types from gathering at the mall in person, so Corey and his team brought the pumpkins to our homes and businesses.

“We disinfected all the pumpkins before delivery,” Corey advised me. “Every pumpkin was wiped down with a Clorox wipe. It’s safe and clean — the motto of 2020.”

He also explained that the mall was determined not to let something as small as a global pandemic prevent them from raising funds for charities struggling to keep their heads above water.

“We had to look at every event we do at the mall, but we still wanted to go ahead with it (the carving contest) this year, because so many charities are having such a tough time this year because of COVID-19,” Corey said. “It was a must-do for us. We want to carry on the tradition.”

It turns out — and here’s a major surprise for you — I was the only “celebrity” carver who greeted Corey at the door wearing only a bathrobe and dripping water on the floor.

“With the way 2020 is going, nothing surprises me anymore,” he confided later. “It was good to see you in the flesh.”

In my defence, I was on a week’s vacation at the time, but that’s not the point. The point is on Sunday morning I sat down to perspire heavily and create another pumpkin masterpiece to help raise funds for the Winnipeg Humane Society.

Initially, I planned to do a coronavirus-themed jack-o-lantern, but then it occurred to me that all the other teams would likely do some manner of COVID-related gourd, so I changed my plan of attack.

After purchasing a second, smaller pumpkin at the grocery store, I decided to whip up a heart-rending “wiener dog” jack-o-lantern in honour of my beloved late miniature dachshund Zoe.

So I used one pumpkin for the front half of the wiener dog and the second pumpkin for its hindquarters and then my wife took pictures of the awesome wiener-o-lantern that I emailed to the mall to post on their Facebook page (facebook.com/kildonanplace).

It was a very different experience than carving in front of hundreds of bemused shoppers at the mall. In fact, the only thing that was the same this year was the fact that, as soon as I began scooping out the pumpkin guts, I was soaked in a river of sweat.

The sad reality is that, other than a special award for producing more perspiration than any other carver, I have never won a (bad word) thing at the annual pumpkin battle.

Saddest of all was the fact that, unlike the past two years, the mall’s charming general manager, Sandra Hagenaars, wasn’t there to mop my incredibly sweaty brow with a never-ending supply of paper towels. “She will be thinking of you,” Corey promised, “but unfortunately we don’t have a six-foot pole to use to mop the sweat on your forehead.”

We all get a $100 donation for our charity just for competing — and there’s another $100 for the scariest, cutest and most creative pumpkins — but the important thing is the mall posted our masterpieces on its Facebook page (facebook.com/kildonanplace) and the gourd that gets the most likes by 10 p.m. Halloween night wins another $500 for their charity.

The second-highest vote-getter earns an extra $300 donation, while third-highest receives another $200. The mall also kicks in 10 cents for every “like, love, care or haha” our gourds get on Facebook.

My wiener-dog jack-o-lantern is not nearly as scary as the skeleton prison I made last year, or the “Mouse House” I made in 2016 with $40 worth of plastic rodents, but it is, and I will quote my wife directly here, “super cute!”

So I am relying on you, the generous newspaper reader, to put down your expensive lattes, pick up your smart devices and “like” my wiener-dog pumpkin until you wear your kind-hearted fingers to the bone.

You may not think I deserve to be the Pumpkin King, but when you check out my jack-o-lantern in support of the humane society I think you’ll discover that, in many ways, I am already a wiener.

doug.speirs@freepress.mb.ca