Pirate Paul

I am someone who honestly loves giving presents. It really is my favorite part of Christmas. This isn’t something I say because I like to pat myself on the back and feel good about myself, I really mean it. I toil and labor and methodically calculate what each one of my Christmas presents will be. I don’t like going in to a store and looking around. I like going into a store grabbing exactly what I have in mind and telling the clerk, ‘No, I am not interested in anything else.’ I pride myself in giving great presents. It’s something that I work hard at and I enjoy. I am really someone who honestly loves giving presents.

The other day I was going through some ski clothes and stumbled upon a black beanie with a skull and cross bones on it. It reminded me that sometimes gifts are very simple.

A couple of years ago my family decided to take a ski trip on vacation. At that time in my life I had still never seen snow. Maybe a couple of flurries here and there but not real snow. The thought of going skiing was amazing. Seeing real snow. Hanging out in a lodge. All things new to me. However no one in my family had ski clothes so my Grandma Peggy bought everyone clothes. She just so happened to buy me a black beanie with a skull and cross bones on it. A little ominous for a first time skier, but I didn’t mind it so much.

This vacation also happened in a time in my life wear I was in the process of growing a beard…or the best beard I could grow. (Sometimes as an actor you don’t control your face.) I had a thick, scraggly, nasty looking beard. And this is where the bad exposition ends and the true story begins.

After a tough half-day of skiing the intense “greens” of Deer Park, I decided that it was lunch. I did my best of not looking like a fool and took my skis off and put the on the rack with my poles. I proceeded to pretend I knew how to walk in ski boots, a talent that I still don’t know. I went to the very luxurious locker room and looked around to make sure no one was noticing that I didn’t know how to walk.

I sat on the bench for a moment before opening my locker. My hands were frozen and my clothes were soaked. Just a few moments before I was sliding down one of the slopes for about fifty yards. Learning how to ski could be very humiliating. I had the feeling that my legs were in a tremendous amount of pain but they were frozen and I couldn’t be sure. I might be horribly injured.  I finally decided to man up and pull my PB & J out of the locker. I quickly decided that it wasn’t worth the effort to eat this beautiful sandwich in the lodge, I was going to eat it right here. That way I wouldn’t have to walk any more than I had to.

As I was finishing my sandwich I noticed a small moppy headed child sitting next to me smiling. He was grinning from ear to ear. I didn’t quite know how to take this seeing that the whole time I’ve been in the locker room I’ve been scowling in pain. The kid looked at me and said Hi. Hey, I say back. He just continues to smile at me. Maybe he wants a sandwich, I don’t know.

Hey buddy, you want a sandwich? I have an extra, I say to him.  The kid just sort of giggles a bit. I start looking around the room for a parent for this little odd ball. There’s got to be a parent somewhere responsible for this kid who’s trying to talk to me while I’m in pain. I see adults, but no one who seems to be paying attention. I like your hat, the kid says. I beginning to think this kid’s making fun of me,  but he seems too sincere. Thanks, I like to wear pictures of heads on my head, I say. The kid seems to find this humorous and chuckles.

Finally a thirtysomething year old man turns around and says, I’m sorry, I hope he isn’t bothering you. No, no, I say to the man. I look back down to realize that the kid is sitting right next to me flush up against my leg. I’m not sure how to take that and I don’t want to anger the father so I stand up and pretend to grab something out of my locker. The kid stands up on the bench and his smile seems to be bigger and brighter than ever and his eyes are fixed on me. Are you a pirate? the kid asks.

Now I didn’t know how to take this because I’m not accustomed to lying to innocent children. I look at the little blond kid, he’s just beaming with happiness. Then I notice the man. His eyes are huge. He’s looking at me with desperation and he very slowly nods his head yes. So I look the kid dead in the eye and I say, Yup. I’m a pirate. The little kid then jumps off the bench and spins around and says, I knew it! He then goes to the other side of the locker room screaming, Dean, Dean, I found one! I found one!

The man looks at me with a weak smile and says, That’s what he wants for Christmas. He wanted to meet a pirate. And before I could ask, the kid and Dean, who was smaller and blonder than the first kid, were right beside me. Dean asked if I was a pirate and I said yeah. They asked me my name and I said Paul (I thought I should be somewhat honest).  I looked at the man and said, Well, I should be going now, I have to catch up with my crew. The man nodded and began to tell the kids that I had to go and say bye. Bye Mr. Pirate Paul, the said in almost unison. Bye, I said, be good now. The man mouthed the words Thank you so much. And I turned around and started to walk away. All I could hear as I was leaving was pure innocence and excitement of the two kids saying, It was a real one! You said I couldn’t find one! It really happened! As I was trying my hardest not to limp too badly until I was out of sight.