THE SANDBOX
By Duncan
Even with a heavy winter coat, I’m extremely cold and uncomfortable. I can see my breath. I parked “Mean Yellow” more than six blocks from this event. I’m tired of walking; my feet are cold. People are jammed in together. This event is bigger than a crowd. It’s a multitude. Let’s see, a multitude is how many people exactly? If I had to guess, at least 100,000 people are standing under the World's Largest in the cold to celebrate.
It’s an annual event. The city of Indianapolis puts on this extravaganza every year. The occasion is designed to bring joy and harmony to Indianapolis by stringing 5,000 lights 240 feet from the top of Monument Circle to the base. They call it the World's Largest Christmas Tree. I was excited about going downtown and standing in the cold.
Oh, yes, leaving the comfort of my dwelling to brave the winter elements doesn’t sound exciting. I’m trying to find the key to rekindling what has been lost. For me, the jubilation of Christmas has been lost or missing for years. The joy and excitement of the season have become nothing more than a few days on the calendar in late December. I shut the doors, turn off the lights, and wait till it’s over. Where has the Christmas I used to know gone?
My father pulled me on a sled up and down our snowy street as a child. I loved the season. Christmas as a boy was believing, believing Christmas was special. Mom and Dad made it special. I assume they shared in my excitement and joy.
When I was in New York attending Drama School, one of my instructors said something that has stayed with me all these years:
“Watch a small child playing in a sandbox; the road he builds in the sand is real. The road is as real in his mind as if paved with gold. A child believes there is a road. As an actor, you must be like a child and simply believe. Believe the road you build in your sandbox.”
Have I become callous of mind? Is this something that happens simply because I know too much? Or is it because I know the secret? The secret is not about a fat man in a red suit but business/commerce. How many widgets did they sell this year over last year? I’m thinking, I’m just too darn smart.
Or is Christmas something more than business?
Years ago, I turned and walked away from the lights, impervious to the people on the street. I would stroll past high-class restaurants like Palomino. I stopped and looked inside. It was almost empty, but the Christmas decorations inside were extremely beautiful, much like the department store decorations of years ago. I suddenly wanted to be a part of the restaurant's opulence. I walked to the front door.
“Dinner or drinks?”
“May I sit in the bar, by the window?”
I was guided to a table next to a street window. My station was a small round table with an oxblood-colored leather tufted chair that was extremely comfortable. The room was first-class, and the Christmas decorations were elegantly displayed. I felt like I was somebody. Now, this is living. I ordered a Scotch to enjoy a cocktail and watch the smiling people walking the streets. I wanted to laugh and smile while the kids played in their sandbox.
