Mount Pleasant Magazine March/April 2018

194 www.ILoveMountPleasant.com | www.BestOfMP.com | www.MountPleasantMagazine.com feature I first met the Easter Bunny at age 4, when my mother dressed me up and took me to a department store to visit with him up close and personal. To be honest, I was a little intimidated. He was about 6 feet, 2 inches tall, a lot bigger than any rabbit I’d been exposed to, and, unlike jolly old Santa Claus, he didn’t say anything. He just patted me on the head and gave me a little bag with a sugary-looking egg. It had a cellophane window that revealed some sort of rural scene; I guessed it might be Ireland. In any event, the egg seemed inedible, so I put it in a closet, where it eventually deteriorated. I guess a sugary ball has a fairly short half-life. Over the years, I got my share of jelly beans, chocolate rabbits, marshmallow eggs and peeps, and eventually I grew up and realized I could get the same stuff, plus that weird green fake grass, at most supermarkets. Alas, the poor Bunny had lost much of its luster. Who would have thought that the big guy would eventually hop back into my life? Decades later, my wife, Judy, was playing mah-jongg, so I decided to wet my whistle at my favorite Mount Pleasant watering spot. I bellied up to the bar, ordered a pint and checked out the sparse crowd. To my amazement, two stools away was a large man – sort of – in a trench coat and a slouch hat, with what appeared to be very long whiskers. Taking a shot in the dark, I asked, “Are you the Easter Bunny?” “Who’s askin’?” he responded in a rabbit-like manner. I told him I hadn’t seen him in decades but always appreciated his kindness in delivering goodies that kids – some of them, anyway – appreciate. This seemed to cheer him up, and he even admitted that he enjoyed playing an integral role in the planet’s spring festivities. I offered to buy him a drink, and he said he wouldn’t mind a nice single malt Scotch, so I popped for a Glenlivet, with carrot juice on the side, of course. The ice broken, we chatted about his role as the Easter Bunny and I learned a lot – maybe more than I wanted to know. “Santa Claus has this image of working on his own, delivering presents to kids around the world. Hah! Never going to happen. He’s built an organization just like our own – tens of thousands of associates who do the real work while he takes the credit,” the big guy told me. “I’m the current head Easter Bunny, although I’m probably not the one you met years ago. He might have been my father or my uncle. They both worked the New York metropolitan area. I’m just not that old.” I admitted that I had a tough time judging the age of By Bill Farley Hopping Back into My Life A Strange Encounter With the Easter Bunny