A Different Drummer: A Halloween Christmas thanks giving

I had a grand unexpected experience last week, something wonderful and unforeseen.
It began when wifey and I accepted an invitation to join our kids, their kids, and a dozen friends and relatives in an RV Halloween Weekend at the 49er Village RV Resort in Plymouth, Calif. We’ve been there before so we knew what to expect: madness and frivolity, family style.
49er Village celebrates Halloween for three October weekends that book up a year in advance. The staff decks out their massive complex of hook-up sites, cabins, pools, ponds and spa with goblins, monsters, zombies, vampires, cobwebs, coffins, and headless horsemen.
The sites fill up early Friday, and everyone brings more decorations. Ghosts and goblins abound. Several sites host haunted houses, and everyone passes out candy at sundown.
Halloween at the 49er also includes organized events in the central pavilion, like screaming and seed-spitting contests. They host costume competitions for all categories – small, medium, and large pets and children, and adults young and old.
Our kids compete every year with group costume designs, and often win, place, or show. They plan for months, sewing and special-ordering shirts and such. This year Chad was Bad Santa. He grew out a scruffy beard, wore an unzipped Santa suit over a wine-stained t-shirt, and hung his phony white beard under his chin. Kristi and five girlfriends dressed all in red as his naughty elves and hung all over him as he strutted about.
Susan and I were caught short. We had no costume ideas. After much procrastination we decided to go as Mr. and Mrs. Santa Claus, the normal ones, as counter-point. When the adult competition begins, she and I could walk on stage first to set the baseline. Then Chad and his merry cohorts could stumble on next singing off-key Christmas carols.
OK. So that was the setup. Then came the surprise.
Our RV was parked adjacent to the central pavilion on top of a grassy hill behind the stage. We lined up our folding chairs behind the trailer and had front row seats looking down on the stage and large audience.
The competitions began with pets, then moved to children age 5 and under. Our kids’ red dachshund, Zinfindel, took 1st place in an elf costume. After the pet parade came intermission before the humans went on display. We took this opportunity to don our costumes, fresh from Amazon.
Cloaked as the Clauses we took to our folding chairs above the crowd to watch the kids compete and wait our turn. We were high on the hill, so I waved at everyone with my white gloves, shook my pillow belly while laughing, then took a seat.
Unexpectedly, a little boy in a space ranger costume stepped out of line for the stage, climbed onto the wall and up the grassy hill toward me. He stopped, bug-eyed, in front of me. “Santa?”
Oh, wow. I hadn’t expected this. The boy thought I was the real deal. I couldn’t disappoint him. “Ho, ho, ho,” I said. “What is your name?” I held out my white-gloved hands and shook his. He was Joey, and he moved closer, headed for my lap. I hoisted him up. I saw his mother and father down in the crowd. They were laughing hysterically.
“Have you been a good boy all year?” I asked, and he nodded eagerly. “Are you thinking about Christmas yet?” He continued to nod. “And what would you like Santa to bring you this year?”
“A light saber. A red one. This big.” He held his hands apart.
“OK, Joey. That’s what I’ll bring you. Where do you live?”
“In Clovis.”
“Oh, I love coming to Clovis. You have great milk and cookies there.” He proudly agreed. Then Joey slid off my lap and hurried back to his mom. My wife and kids huddled around me remarking their surprise. None of us expected that.
Then my daughter Kristi said, “Oops. Here comes another one.”
Up the hill came a little girl dressed as Rapunzel in a pink frilly dress with a long yellow-yarn ponytail wrapped around her several times.
“Ho, ho, ho, and who might you be?” I shook her little hands with my soft fuzzy gloves. She handed me her registration card for the costume competition. “So, your name is Brooklyn and you are dressed as Rapunzel?” She nodded yes. “And you’ve been thinking about Christmas?’ Again with the nod. “Well, come closer and whisper it in my ear.”
“I want a train set.”
“Well, that’s a great gift idea. Every year you can add to it until it fills your whole bedroom.” She liked that idea.
Behind her a line of children were forming, patiently waiting their turn to talk to Santa. The next little boy couldn’t think of a present, so I suggested a cell phone. His eyes grew wide. I told him to run and tell mommy and daddy all about it.
The next girl said she didn’t want a present. She wanted me to give her present to someone who needed it more. I told her what a sweet, generous, and wonderful child she was, and that was gift enough.
Little Brooklyn came rushing back and jumped line to tell me she’d changed her mind. She no longer wanted a train set. She wanted some sort of cooking game that I’d never heard of. At the same time another little girl, Abby, was on my lap. Abby said to Brooklyn, “Oh, I have that game. It’s a lot of fun.” Next thing I know the two are having a conversation.
It went on like that until our turn on the stage arrived. Sue and I didn’t win anything, but Bad Santa and his Elves won third place. I was just fine with that.