Santa has made an appearance at the Cieslewicz family Christmas Eve for all of my 59 years and for a bunch of years before that. The family Santa costume (which itself might be something like 70 years old) has been worn by my grandfather, my father, my Godfather, my brother, various others who stepped in for cameo appearances and, for the past few years until now, me.
For any children reading this blog, let me hasten to clarify that with the world population now at 7.7 billion and one night still being only one night, Santa finds it necessary to deputize certain individuals to carry on his work. But when doing so, his spirit fully embraces his helpers. As a result, every Santa Claus you see is the real Santa.
With that important stipulation out of the way, I will note that the North Pole satellite office in Menomonee Falls offered no explanation for my dismissal as a deputy Santa. I was just thanked for my service and sent on my way.
Even my own mother damned me with the faintest of praise. I quote her email verbatim: “You did just fine, Dave. Considering the variety of age groups that you had to deal with.”
Ouch, Mom.
Her reference to the age groups is valid, though. It’s a long tradition in our family that Santa does a little shtick and it’s hard to please a crowd that spans 88 years. So, I wrote my own material. Once Santa got settled in a big chair next to the fireplace and the kids were gathered round he did a little floorshow before he distributed presents.
Here’s a sampling from my last performance.
Did you know that Benjamin Franklin designed his own Christmas wreath? It’s true. It’s called A-Wreath-O-Franklin!
I liked that one, but my grand nieces and nephews, ages mostly in the single digits, just stared up at me. You could hear a pine needle drop. So, I kicked it up a notch.
Did you know that when Santa isn’t driving his sleigh he’s riding a bike? It’s true. And do you know what he asks when he’s riding? “Do you gear what I gear?!”
Nothing from the crowd, except that the youngest child began to cry. So I went to the AAA material.
Two things people don’t know about Santa are that he has special magical powers and that he has a temper. One day a couple weeks before Christmas, Santa visited the elves in their workshop. He found them on an extended break and they were goofed on candy canes and hot chocolate. They were already behind in their quotas and Santa got so angry that, just to send a message to the Elves Union, he turned two of them into lawn ornaments. And do you know what those elves are singing this year? “I’ll be a gnome for Christmas!”
Now one kid was in full scream while another began to whimper. So, I pulled out all the stops.
Seems Santa had to renew his sleigh driver’s license for another 100 years. This should concern all of us since he’s already 1,200 years old, but nonetheless he went down to the DMV and took a number. While he was waiting, Santa filled out the form, but being 1,200 his writing is kind of shaky. Anyway, the DMV worker called his number and Santa stepped up to the window and slid the form across to the guy. He looked at it and said, “Okay, Mr. Krisl Kringle,” Santa said, “It’s Kris Kringle.” The DMV guy looked down at the form again and said, “No, see it says right here Krisl Kringle.” At that Santa lost his temper. “There is an L in the second name. But the first no L!”
The crying had dissolved back into blank stares. What was the matter with these children who, after all, share my DNA? Were the references completely lost on them? I blame their parents for neglecting their educations. I especially blame their grandparents.
The entertainment portion of the program was over. I read through the naughty and nice list, opened the bag, distributed the presents and made for the sleigh parked out on the front lawn. Then I pulled off the suit, which is very hot, and had a nice brandy Manhattan. Under its soothing influence I convinced myself that my material was solid and that the real problem was with the audience.
But it’s okay. Genius is seldom recognized, especially at home. So this year, having been stripped of my role, I’ll be more relaxed. I can have my cocktail earlier in the evening and I don’t have to worry about the tough audience and the harsh reviews from the critics.
Whatever you’re celebrating this time of year, may you enjoy relief from tough audiences, shelter from harsh critics and a nice beverage of your choice. And, whatever you do next year, may you do “just fine considering the variety of age groups” you’ll have to deal with.
