Being Santa Claus : What I Learned About the True Meaning of Christmas (9781101600528)
Read Being Santa Claus : What I Learned About the True Meaning of Christmas (9781101600528) Online
Authors: Jonathan Sal; Lane Lizard,Jonathan Lane
Being Santa Claus
Being Santa Claus
WHAT I LEARNED ABOUT
THE TRUE MEANING OF CHRISTMAS
SAL LIZARD
with Jonathan Lane
GOTHAM BOOKS
GOTHAM BOOKS
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Published by Gotham Books, a member of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
First printing, November 2012
1 3 5 7 9 10 8 6 4 2
Copyright © 2012 by Sal Lizard and Jonathan Lane
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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA
Lizard, Sal.
Being Santa Claus : what I learned about the true meaning of Christmas/Sal Lizard with Jonathan Lane.
p. cm.
ISBN: 978-1-101-60052-8
1. Santa Claus. I. Lane, Jonathan. II. Title.
GT4992.L59 2012
394.2663—dc23
2012014420
Printed in the United States of America
Set in Old Style 7 Std Roman
Designed by Nicola Ferguson
While the author has made every effort to provide accurate telephone numbers, Internet addresses, and other contact information at the time of publication, neither the publisher nor the author assumes any responsibility for errors, or for changes that occur after publication. Further, publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
Penguin is committed to publishing works of quality and integrity.
In that spirit, we are proud to offer this book to our readers;
however, the story, the experiences, and the words
are the author’s alone.
| ALWAYS LEARNING | PEARSON |
For Ashley, Jayden,
and everyone else out there
who believes in the magic
and wonder of Santa Claus
CONTENTS
The Mysterious Power of the Red Suit,
Even the Smallest Child Can Make a Difference,
“Santa, Can I Come Back as an Elf?,”
SEVEN
Santa’s Giggles, Gear, and Gadgets,
The Myth of the “Perfect Christmas,”
He Knows If You’ve Been Bad or Good,
Won’t You Guide My Sleigh Tonight?,
INTRODUCTION
I
TAKE BEING SANTA CLAUS VERY SERIOUSLY
.
It doesn’t matter what the calendar says; no matter where I am or what I’m doing, when children come up to me and greet me as Santa, as they often do, I immediately slip into character. I might say I noticed them being good, and (with their parents’ permission) offer them a candy cane. My pockets are stocked with a stash of candy canes year-round because I never know when I’ll run into a flash of Christmas cheer.
Even my car, affectionately known as the Santamobile, embraces the iconic role I’ve come to play. My bright red Chevy station wagon has the word
Santa
painted in big letters on both sides. The license plate, which also reads
SANTA
, has a lighted neon frame, and a bobblehead Santa Claus sits atop the dashboard, underneath a sprig of mistletoe hanging from my rearview mirror.
Folks who see me driving around or handing out free
candy canes in spring or summertime say, “Man, you must really love Christmas!”
“Not just Christmas,” I tell them. “I love the
spirit
of Christmas.”
I don’t think of Christmas as simply a single day during the year. For me, Christmas happens anytime someone reaches out to another with love; when someone gives just for the sake of helping another fellow human being; when a child’s eyes light up with the wonder of believing in miracles.
I learned at a very young age about the spirit of giving, and that one could do so on days other than Christmas. I was raised in a poor area of Indianapolis during the late fifties by a single mother who worked tirelessly to provide food, clothing, and a roof for me and my brother. Meals in our home typically consisted of boiled vegetable and potato stews without any meat. But once or twice a month, a kind neighbor would go hunting or fishing and stop by on his way home with some extra rabbit or fish to give my mother, usually long after my brother and I were asleep. Our neighbors knew of our hardship, and while they didn’t have much to give, they wanted to provide a little protein for the growing boys. The next morning, my brother and I would awaken to a house filled with the delicious scent of cooking meat—a rare and welcome treat for us.
I didn’t specifically gravitate to Christmas as a holiday as a child or as a young adult, even though I began
to resemble jolly old Saint Nick at a surprisingly early age. As I entered my twenties in the mid-1970s, my hair and beard began turning white. By the time I left the U.S. Navy at the age of twenty-six and entered my long-haired, unshaven hippie years, I looked essentially as I do now—just like Santa Claus.
Even though people would often smile as I passed by, and children would tug on their parents’ arms in wide-eyed curiosity as I walked down the street (
“That beard…that hair…is he really Santa?”
), being Santa Claus couldn’t have been further from my mind. And so my younger years passed with little Christmas influence. Indeed, I had reached well into my mid-thirties before Santa entered my life in any meaningful way.
The beginnings of my life as Santa were simple enough. In 1992, I was living in Charleston, South Carolina, running my own safety inspection business. Early that December, I was asked by my friend Michael D., a DJ at our local radio station, to play Santa Claus during their annual toy drive. All I had to do was dress up as Santa and drive around Charleston delivering toys to children, maybe giving an occasional “Ho, ho, ho!” No big deal, right? But something happened to me that day when I put on that outfit for the first time. I experienced firsthand the mysterious power of the red suit to bring out the best in people. People of all ages just seem to become more generous, openhearted, and happy—even
giddy—the instant they encounter Santa. He represents everything that is magical and wonderful about humanity, and I found myself slightly awed by personifying his spirit, even in costume.
