You have landed on a blog where an Oldie is being played. Hopefully, you will agree that it's also a Goodie.
I've had quite a few jobs in my lifetime. They have ranged from being physically labor-intensive up to executive management. However, none were quite as interesting as the Christmas season of 1973. During that season I worked in the evenings and on weekends as a department store Santa. Yes, that is the Christmas stamp from 1973, and yes, it did cost 8 cents! I was actually hired by a temporary agency that supplied Santas to a variety of stores. They conducted one mass training session where we were told about the outfits and how to do the makeup, and then we were encouraged to read the poem, “Twas the Night Before Christmas”, by Clement C. Moore, to give us the idea behind the kind of Santa they wanted. I was assigned to a Sears store located in one of the area malls.
The store had set up a Santa Shop area next to their furniture department, and it was decorated with a large chair for Santa, all types of props, and it had a Polaroid camera to make instant photos for those wishing to buy a picture of their child with Santa. There were several of us who played Santa and a number of young ladies who dressed up as elves. These ladies worked the camera and operated the register. The Santa uniform, while uncomfortable and sweaty, was very nice and the beard very realistic. It was quite an ordeal to rush in from my regular job and undergo the transformation from an office worker to the Jolly Old Saint, and I did have to use a pillow for my tummy back in those days. There have been a few times over the years when I wouldn’t have needed one because I could have supplied my own, but that’s another story. Just so you know, I would not have to use one today!
Typically, I would work from 6 p.m. to store closing on the weeknights I was scheduled, and on Saturdays, I could work as many as 12 hours. This job might look like loads of fun but I will tell you from actual experience, it can be very, very difficult. The children, of course, were wonderful. And, you can put up with those that cry, and those who spit up on you, or the occasional accident that soils your suit. But, when you are dealing with THE PARENTS, and especially, THE MOMS, there’s little to no hope for any kind of enjoyment.
I want to mention a word about the music. The Jackson Five came out with a Christmas album in 1970 with many standards recorded in their memorable style. The songs were: 1. Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas 2. Santa Claus Is Comin' To Town 3. The Christmas Song 4. Up On The House Top 5. Frosty The Snowman 6. The Little Drummer Boy 7. Rudolph The Red-Nosed Reindeer 8. Christmas Won't Be The Same This Year 9. Give Love On Christmas Day 10. Someday At Christmas 11. I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus. But there was only one huge problem: This was the only cassette our Santa Workshop had to play. I challenge anyone to listen to this music evening after evening and for 12 hours on Saturday without going postal! I guess the only thing worse I can think of is if it had been Alvin and the Chipmunks!
People showed up in droves and they were paying $2.50 for a special card with an instant photo of their child with Santa. Okay, we were not a portrait studio. It was a Polaroid camera! Hello? This was something that was obviously lost on many of the mommies who brought their children. They wanted the picture to be perfect which led to retakes, and log jams, and anger on the part of those waiting in line, and stress, and confusion, and chaos. There were times when I thought some of the moms were going to come to blows as they argued about their photos or their position in line. Believe it or not, some showed up to have twenty-five pictures made so they could send them out as Christmas cards. Now I ask you, who would think you might be able to keep a squirming kid posed for even one photo? It’s called insanity!
People showed up in droves and they were paying $2.50 for a special card with an instant photo of their child with Santa. Okay, we were not a portrait studio. It was a Polaroid camera! Hello? This was something that was obviously lost on many of the mommies who brought their children. They wanted the picture to be perfect which led to retakes, and log jams, and anger on the part of those waiting in line, and stress, and confusion, and chaos. There were times when I thought some of the moms were going to come to blows as they argued about their photos or their position in line. Believe it or not, some showed up to have twenty-five pictures made so they could send them out as Christmas cards. Now I ask you, who would think you might be able to keep a squirming kid posed for even one photo? It’s called insanity!
There were times whenever it got so completely out of hand I had no choice but to announce a timeout for Santa to go and feed his reindeer. (That’s what the sign said when I was on break.) If the children cried which many did, it was Santa’s fault. If the picture was bad, it was Santa’s fault. If the line was too long, it was Santa’s fault, and the list could go on and on and on. The last week before Christmas the store was open until 11 p.m. each night and I often pulled the entire Saturday shift by myself. Yes, we needed the extra money and we even have a photo of our boys taken with me, after we explained how I was only a helper because the real Santa was busy getting all the toys ready for them.
Despite these challenges, there were some moments that still stand out in my mind nearly 35 years later. I think about the little guy who wobbled up to me, trembling, as he brought all his old pacifiers in a bag to show Santa that he was kicking the habit. I remember the sad young ladies who came to take a photo for their boyfriend or husband stationed overseas. Then, there was that look in the eyes of children with disabilities as they had their moment with Santa. One night an entire high school Christmas party crew showed up for photos. Having a football player and his date sit on your lap was not exactly what I had in mind when I signed up for this work. And, THE CHILDREN. Santa is about children. Their innocence and their exuberant joy helped make an otherwise miserable experience one that still causes a warm glow in my heart, and brings a smile to my face. Here’s a final word straight from the old dude himself: "He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle, And away they all flew like the down of a thistle. But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight, "Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!" Have a great day and may God add His blessings to it. Amen. ……More later."
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