SANTA COMES TO TOWN, AGAIN!

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It seems ironic, almost eerie, that I should be playing Santa Claus, when in fact I was warned so often as a little kid that Santa was probably NOT coming for me. There were the conversations at the kitchen table, under the big black stove pipe that led through the roof on the top floor of our apartment building.

Dad would sit at the head of the table, mom hovering near the stove, and me and my older sister (much older) Tessie sitting on the chairs as the riot act was read to me. At four or five, you took those things seriously. Then Dad would ask me THE question: “Are you ever going to do that again?” If I hesitated, there came this loud knock out of nowhere. This sent chills up and down my spine, as I stiffened up: Santa was knocking: reminding me I HAD to be good!

Yes, that's me!

Fast-forward a few hundred years to today. The most threatened kid in America ever, is being asked to play Santa, and not just once, but twice a year for people with disabilities! With terms like incorrigible, instigator, aggravating and threats such as: Wait, just wait ‘til your father gets home, still ringing in my ears, I am off to see my adoring fans! Finally, someone is happy to see me! Of course I have to wear a beard and costume, disguising myself so they don’t know who I am, but still it is exhilarating, as the DJ makes the grand announcement to the large dance crowd of participants of their annual Holiday Dance: “Is that Santa I hear?” Then I swing out the heavy metal door that conceals me and start a long journey across this large dance floor, “Ho-Ho-Hoing” as I go, getting mobbed, people excited and hugging me, kissing and squeezing me. If it never happened to you, even in a disguise, you are missing one of life’s greater pleasures!

Then there is a much more serene visit I make to a home for people with disabilities. They gather after their dinner and wait for Santa to arrive. He does, rings the doorbell and the whole house gets excited, but not quite as excited as Santa. A seat is reserved for old Santa who reaches down in his sack of presents and one at a time distributes them to the residents. Then we all sit and have ice-crem and cake!

So Dad, I know you can see it all, remember when you said if I behaved like I did, I’d never amount to anything? Well, Ho-Ho-Ho, I’m Santa!