“It’s the Great Pumpkin Drop, Charlie Brown!”

By Larry Judkins

Glenn County Observer

Pumpkins away!

Fortunately, it wasn’t “Turkeys Away!”, the title of the famous episode of the old WKRP in Cincinnati sit-com in which Mr. Carlson, the owner of the radio station, dropped live turkeys from a helicopter, sending them plummeting to their deaths.

“As God is my witness, I thought turkeys could fly!” Carlson later told his employees as they took complaints from various animal welfare advocates.

Before the catastrophe, he believed the turkey drop would be the greatest promotional event in the history of radio.

Of course, as anyone from rural Northern California can tell you, turkey flightlessness applies only to domesticated turkeys, which have been bred to be so heavy with the meat craved (and carved) by humans that they cannot fly. However, a wild turkey can, well, fly like a bird.

On the other hand, pumpkins, whether wild or domesticated, can’t fly. “As God is my witness, I thought pumpkins can fly,” said no one ever.

All pumpkins can do when dropped from a height is plummet to the ground and smash into a thousand gooey pieces ­ a fact they may have (but probably didn’t) inspire the name of the alternative rock band, Smashing Pumpkins.

The effect of gravity on falling pumpkins did, however, inspire an event held at the Orland fire station during the Treat Street celebration on Saturday, Oct. 28.

In a nutshell, the idea behind the plummeting pumpkin contest was for entrants to figure out a way for pumpkins to survive unscathed a 50-foot drop. Possibilities for reaching this goal included attaching parachutes to the pumpkins, wrapping them in blankets, or employing plenty of bubble wrap, thereby (hopefully) preventing the gourds from becoming squashed (so to speak).

The winner would be awarded $20.

Alas, no one was able to enjoy the fruits of their labors. None of the pumpkins walked ­ er, rolled ­ away completely unharmed, although one or two came close.

The award was shared among the entrants. That is, everyone enjoyed a piece of the pumpkin pie.

Perhaps someone will have better luck next year.

As for the rest of the Treat Street event, it appeared to be very well attended. Numerous organizations and businesses had tables set up in Library Park, and Fourth Street was completely shut down to traffic from Colusa Street to Walker Street.

As the name suggests, there were treats aplenty.

Costumes were in abundance, with both kids and adults dressing up.

By the way, the best, most perfect costume(s) I have ever seen were at the Treat Street celebration a few years ago. The pandemic was in full swing, and an adult and younger person ­ I think they were a mother and daughter, but I’m not sure; they were, after all, in costume ­ were dressed as 17th century plague doctors.

And what, you may be wondering, is so special about a 17th century plague doctor? Well, see for yourself:

If you want to know more, go to your local library.

All photos by Larry Judkins, with the obvious exception of the colorized woodcut of the 17t h century plague doctor. (I’m old but I’m not that old!)