Being Santa Claus : What I Learned About the True Meaning of Christmas (9781101600528) (13 page)

An overheating Santa is generally not a candy cane–scented one, so I eventually added not one but two more suits to my repertoire: one to wear, one as backup while the primary one goes to the dry cleaner every three
days, and one backup to the backup in case of last-minute mishaps.

There’s a whole colorful world of Santa-wear out there. I’ve seen candy-striped shirts, green satin tunics, and red-and-gold-checkered vests. There are short red coats with fluffy double-shawled collars, long Victorian robes in burgundy velvet with gold chain fasteners, and the old-world European version of Father Christmas with earth tones, a wreath around his head, and a walking stick. Even on the traditional Santa Claus suit, there’s an impressive array of choices to make it your own: gilt-embroidered coats, customized golden Santa belt buckles, handmade leather boots, hats with holly and bells, square spectacles…the variety is endless.

When I worked exclusively as a mall Santa, I stuck to the classic red and white ensemble. In later years, when I did a season as a Santa-in-residence at a photography studio, I spent more time moving around and playing with kids on the floor, which meant I got even hotter. I had the freedom to dress in whatever kind of Santa Claus suit I wanted, so I figured that was the time to have some fun experimenting.

Somewhere around that time, I’d read an article about why some children are afraid of Santa in a professional Santa Claus newsletter. I discovered that one of the things that frighten children about Santa is that every inch of his body is covered (children use visual cues like body shape, hands, and the face to determine an
adult’s trustworthiness). So I contacted a company who specialized in custom Santa Claus outfits, and I ordered the outfit for “Workshop” Santa. Workshop Santa was a little more casual, and a whole lot less daunting.

Instead of the bulky coat and clown pants that hid my body shape, I wore red velvet bib overalls that strapped over the shoulders and came up to my mid-chest area, and a simple white dress shirt. No hat covering my head, no gloves on my hands. The costume worked out splendidly. I still had my familiar white hair and beard, but I looked as though I was ready to cobble together some new toys for them right then and there. Children seemed completely comfortable and relaxed around this workshop version of Santa, even the very littlest ones—almost no fears or tears! As for me, without the heavy coat, I could romp freely with the kids without roasting.

As a professional Santa, I get to play with all sorts of clever gadgets and inventions. Who says Santa doesn’t love toys, too? I have a whole collection of special Santa colognes to spray onto my clothing in different Christmas scents like gingerbread, peppermint, pine, cinnamon, and cocoa. My GenuineSanta.com website brings Santa into the modern age and allows me to happily tinker with all kinds of technological bells and whistles. But my favorite toy, of course, is my Santamobile, which I drive year-round. It’s a cherry-red Chevy with the word
Santa
painted on the sides, and it’s loaded with all kinds of fun thingamabobs: neon lights around
the
SANTA
license plates, speakers that can play Christmas music outside the car when it’s parked, and synchronized strobe lights that flash to the music from underneath the chassis. Batman may have his Batmobile, but Santa Sal’s car is every bit as cool, if I do say so myself.

You might wonder if all this is really necessary. And the answer, for me, is that I always want to do everything I can to be as authentic for kids as possible. It’s important for me to be believable and wondrous in their eyes. If I’m wearing a flimsy belt that breaks or if my boot toppers look fake and obvious, some of the magical shine gets lost—remember Kevin, who spotted the glue-on Santa’s beard and very nearly gave up believing?

And even if children are blind to the authenticity of Santa, the camera lens isn’t. The pictures these families take with me will be in the family photo album for years and years, and I want those memories to hold up. One of the greatest joys for me is meeting people who care enough about Santa Claus to make him a permanent part of their recorded family history. Even more of an honor is when parents who sat on my lap a decade earlier when they were children bring their own kids to take a holiday picture with me. If it matters enough to them to continue that personal Santa connection through the generations, then it certainly matters to me that they’re getting an authentic-looking (and good-smelling) Santa Claus.

BEST OF ALL, I GET TO CELEBRATE CHRISTMAS
cheer 365 days a year. I’ll walk into the local post office here in Georgia, where I now live, and folks will stop what they’re doing, look over at me, and smile. Some will even say, “Hi, Santa!” I have a theory that seeing me brings up happy memories of Christmas that I believe
everyone
has. Heck, once I was pulled over on the highway by a formidable-looking state trooper. It turned out that he didn’t want to give me a ticket; he just wanted to take his picture with Santa Claus!

And of course, nearly every day I come across a child who sees me as Santa, so I make every effort to carry candy canes everywhere I go in a special crimson velvet bag. I like to buy big, well-made ones; kids expect Santa to give out real candy canes, not those fragile, penny candy things! I’ll stock up on fifty boxes at a time just to make sure I always have some on hand. They go pretty quickly, especially since the parents almost always ask for one, too. And their smiles are usually just as big as their children’s.

So you see, as much cheer as I might have brought to others in my role as Santa, being Santa Claus has given me more to celebrate, enjoy, and be grateful for than I ever could have imagined.

Y
OU HEAR IT A LOT AROUND CHRISTMASTIME
: people feeling overwhelmed with too much to do, too many obligations and responsibilities, tying themselves in knots to make the holidays perfect. I’ll overhear parents talking to one another while they are waiting in line to see me, saying things like “I’m running myself ragged trying to find the doll/truck/video game my child wants” or “We drove to four different places searching for the right tree.” All the rushing and pressure can turn what’s supposed to be the happiest season of all into the most stressful time of the year. I really do understand—even Santa sometimes finds himself stretched a little too thin, trying to be all things to everyone.

My success as a mall Santa turned out to be a mixed
blessing. Being a Santa-in-residence for an entire season was exciting for me, and, at the same time, my roster of regulars for home visits kept growing. There came one Christmas, however, when I found that I had more home visit bookings than I could fit into my schedule. My hours at the mall were running later and later, which left no way to make it to some of these families’ homes before their children would go to sleep.

That presented quite a conundrum for me. As I started calling up parents to explain the problem, most sounded very disappointed and asked if I could think of some way—any way at all—to come to their house. They so wanted their children to see Santa Claus walk into their very own living rooms.

Honestly, I couldn’t think of anything. I would need to be in two places at once. While the real Santa Claus might have the ability to make it to every home around the globe in a single night, I hadn’t figured out how he managed that particular trick yet. If I canceled the home visits, I’d be going back on my word and disappointing dozens of children. But if I didn’t show up at the mall for the hours I was scheduled, I’d be disappointing hundreds more, not to mention probably doing damage to my credibility as a reliable Santa. Suddenly I understood what people meant when they talked about holiday stress.

Stumped for a solution, I remembered a friend of mine who played Santa at a different mall. Like me, he put in
long days at his North Pole Village set, but I knew he also made home visits. So I called him up and asked how he managed it.

“Pajama visits,” he said.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“You arrive after the children are asleep,” he explained, “and the parents wake the kids up with, ‘I think I hear Santa downstairs!’ The children then ‘discover’ Santa putting presents underneath the tree.”

How simple! How obvious! I would still be able to appear at many of my regular customers’ houses; I’d just have to do all the visits on Christmas Eve. After all, Santa doesn’t come and put presents under the tree in early December. I called back the disappointed parents and explained the pajama visit, and they loved the idea. So I scheduled as many pajama visits as I could fit in in one night, with arrival times as late as 3:00 in the morning.

However, with travel required between pajama visit locations, I quickly ran out of slots for Christmas Eve, with many of my regular customers still wanting visits. Then I thought of another idea, in its own way almost better than a pajama visit. I called it a Santa Cam visit. Admittedly, it took a bit of extra effort to set up, but if parents went along with the idea, the payoff on Christmas Day for the children would be priceless.

Here’s how it worked: Weeks or even days before Christmas, the parents and I would set up a time in the
morning just after their children had left for school, and before I had to leave for the mall. This gave us about ninety minutes of “safe” time when the kids wouldn’t be home to catch us.

Once I arrived and got into my Santa suit, we would cover all the windows to make the room look dark and then set up the video camera on a tripod. I would put all of the presents into my sack and stand just in front of the fireplace, freezing into a crouching pose.

On my signal, the parents would press Record. With the camera now taping, I would “climb” out of the fireplace and look around. If I saw some milk and cookies left out for me, I would eat one or two, drink the milk, and then place the presents under the tree. One by one, I would take the wrapped gifts out of my sack. During this whole process, I’d hum and sing a few Christmas songs, comment on this or that piece of furniture or a picture on the wall, and even talk to some of the toys themselves, saying things like, “I heard that Pamela loves her dollies, so I’m sure you’ll be really happy here.”

Then, with all of the toys placed under the tree, I’d grab my sack and start walking back to the fireplace. On my way, I would suddenly “notice” the camera. I’d walk toward it and say, “Boy, I hope this thing isn’t on!” I would stick my face really close to the camera lens, look shocked, and say, “Oh, my goodness! It
is
on!” Then I would touch my finger to my nose and hold still for a second while one of the parents hit the Pause button.

For the big finish, with the camera paused, I would step out of the frame and take some glitter confetti out of my pocket. On my cue, the parent would hit Record again, and I would toss the glitter at the camera. On video, it looked like Santa had vanished, leaving only a sparkle. I recommended that, before the parents put the presents away after I left, they let the camera keep filming until it ran out of tape. I knew that some of the smart kids out there would smell a trick and wonder, “Hey, why did the camera come on
only
while Santa was here and stop right after he left?” By letting the camera keep recording until the end of the tape, it would seem like something mysterious made the camera turn on just as Santa arrived, but nothing turned it off again.

Of course, to make this work, the parents’ job became critically important on Christmas Eve. They needed to set up the video camera in the same spot and put a blank tape into it. And if the children asked the reason for setting the camera up the night before, the parents would explain that it was so the camera would be ready on Christmas morning to take video of all the gifts being opened.

Then, after the children went to sleep, the parents would take out the hidden presents and lay out all the gifts exactly where Santa had put them on the videotape (we used Polaroid pictures to make sure the layout was the same). Then they would switch the blank tape for the Santa Cam tape.