Eddie and the Parrot — by Elazar Aslan

By Elazar Aslan

It was one of my family’s best traditions. Every summer my father would rent a beach house for a week down the famous Jersey Shore, in the southern part of New Jersey. All my siblings came from around the country and frankly London and Teheran, and would bring their growing families. Being in my late teens when this started, I felt as safe and protected as ever. Late morning stumblings into the ocean, great family activities during the day, barbeques and home cooked meals on the veranda, and of course the Jersey club scene in the late nights. Life was good.

One of the nights I decided to skip the bar scene and take my new girlfriend and three of my nephews to the amusement parks of Wildwood, NJ. As soon as we hit the boardwalk, my nephew Eddie, who at eight years old was the oldest of the three nephews, declared his intention right out loud and with no hesitation: “I know what I want. I want one of those very big parrots that’s as tall as me and I’m going to call him ‘Popcorn’.” I quickly mentioned to Eddie that those things are hard to find and if you do find it, it will be even harder to win. Knowing that the likelihood of obtaining the prize was so minimal and that Eddie would be as disappointed in going home without the Parrot as he was excited to get one, I suggested we may buy one some other day and that he not link his joy to that one outcome. Eddie knew what he wanted now. Eddie wasn’t really listening.

Soon it was time to have fun. I gave each child his share of the money to spend as he pleased and they were off with my girlfriend to begin their adventure. I was headed for a particular game of skill that I was intent on doing that night. Before I went to it, I decided to just warm up at the booth I was already standing near; a rather random choice, given all the options. This particular game of “skill” was about throwing a softball into an old-fashioned milk can. You know, the type where there is a slightly wide lip surrounding the hole at the top of a three-foot high metal can. Get two of the three balls into the milk can and you can win a small prize. Repeat that feat again and you can trade your prize for a bigger one. Do that four times and you can go home with a “show off” trophy. A good place to warm up since I was already standing there and the guy was putting the balls in my hand.

“Three balls for $3. Get two in and win. Anybody can do it.”

He was persuasive, but then again, I was an easy target. We tried the first set and couldn’t get any in. Tried again, same results. Okay, I’m just warming up; I’m getting closer, let’s try again, okay one more time—still nothing. After $30 of trying and failing, it was time to go to my favorite game.

“Oh don’t leave,” he shouted, “you can do it, you’re so close. Just roll it off your fingers like this. Don’t throw them, roll them off your fingers. Here try it.”

Oh, that’s the secret, I thought, I can do that. It was another $30 of failed attempts at letting it “roll of my fingers” and into the milk can. Upon leaving, this time with much frustration, I heard him say, “look you’ve been a trooper and you’re getting it now. I’ll give you a set for free, AND if you win, I’ll give you a bigger prize from the start.” A free set I thought, a bigger prize? Maybe at the end I won’t feel like such a loser—let’s try. It was another dismal round of losing $30 doing something I didn’t enjoy for a prize I never wanted. The only thing that got me out of the trance of ‘let it roll of your fingers’ was my girlfriend and my highly charged nephews approaching me.

“How was your game?” she asked with excitement.

“I never went,” I said with much anger as I let go of the last ball, “I never left this booth.”

“What? she asked in utter amazement, “what prize do you want here?”

“None. He just kept pulling me back.”

“Oh My God, do you still want to go to your game?”

I paused and looked into my pocket and found $6.

“Oh my God, is that all you have left? Let’s just go home; we may need the money for tolls or gas or something. I spent all my money on the kids and I have nothing left either. Let’s just go.”

It was time to go anyway, but boy did I hurt inside. It wasn’t about the money really. It was about not doing what I wanted to do and doing everything I didn’t want to do. And for what? I didn’t care about the skill, I didn’t want any of the prizes, I wasn’t playing with any friend for fun, I didn’t even like the guy who kept coaching me to “roll it off my fingers”. In fact, I really disliked him. Truth be known, I was so angry mainly because I let some stranger take advantage of me, steer me off my path, take my money and ruin my evening. As we kept walking, I kept getting angrier, first with myself, then the guy and believe it or not, even God. Why did he do that to me I thought. Why did he put that guy in my path? Why was I so stupid?

Amidst my consternations, I heard Eddie shouting, “There it is! There it is! There it is!”

As my awareness shifted from my negative thoughts to his excitement of the present moment, I could see what he was talking about. There, in a side alley, was one booth, and from the corner of my eye I could see what he was excited about—Popcorn—a three- foot huge colorful toy Parrot. Eddie’s excitement was so powerful that there was no denying it. All we had between us was $6. Certainly not enough to win a parrot, but so little that betting it all was the obvious show of love and caring.

“3 balls for $3,” yelled the boy working the booth.

“Here’s $6, give me 6 balls, I said without hesitation.

“All you have to do is get two balls out of three to stay in the basket and you get your choice of prizes.” He kept hawking.

Eddie got even more excited at that news. “You could do it Uncle Elie, you could win Popcorn.”

The news that you could win your choice after only one success only made me realize how impossible this task must be. After all, almost a $100 later and I never even won a stupid plastic worm, now with $6 we were going to win Eddie’s dream.

I threw the first ball into this very wide straw basket and it went in easily and it popped out. Another ball, another try. This one stayed in. This was amazing. I asked the attendant if it could be two out of any three balls.

“Choice or choke” he kept shouting. Get the next one in and you can have your choice, miss and you choked. Choice or choke, come watch this man.”

I let the next ball gently roll off my fingers and watched it hit the lip of the basket and softly roll inside and stay.

Everyone around me, including the new crowd, cheered, as if the underdog Americans beat the Russians for an Olympic Gold. I went to claim Popcorn for Eddie. Right before I did, I noticed a beautiful elephant sitting next to the parrot. My girlfriend’s mother was fanatical about elephants and quite fond of me; this elephant had Elie stitched across it. Now that was the prize I wanted, but of course I would choose Popcorn for Eddie. After the excitement I quickly realized that I had already paid for another set of balls. I once again took the next two balls and let them “roll off my fingers” into the straw basket; didn’t even need the third ball. I now also claimed Elie for my girlfriend’s sweet mother.

I was incredulous - for six dollars I won two unbelievably huge and special prizes. I had to ask the guy, “How can you afford to run this booth? The prizes are so great and it’s so easy to do?”

He said that he gets over a hundred people a day because the prizes are so good and he gives away one prize every ten days because no one really knows how to let the balls roll off their fingers.

It was a fantastic night and a most profound lesson; one that forever disabused me from the concept of randomness.

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