Photo;Shandra Beri
Here's the thing about Santa; it seems
like he only works one day a year, but the truth is there is SO much
prep that precedes Christmas, even if I broke it down, you couldn't wrap
your head around it if you tried. The lists, the checking them twice-
it doesn't sound like a lot until you start to add up all the numbers.
Very quickly the amount of work becomes staggering. Then there is the
issue of the elves- not just the logistics of coordinating their gift
making and wrapping efforts, but they have a tendency to squabble with
each other and carry long-lived grudges unless there is consistent
mediation going on. The amount of X-mas work is one thing, but the
whole 'hands on' aspect with the cranky little guys really gets to be
drain on his patience around the end of November. Anyway, after The Big
Day, Santa spends about a week just lying around in his PJ's eating
take-out with Layla (Mrs. Claus to you and I...), watching re-runs of The Twilight Zone and I Love Lucy
(don't ask, he's more complicated than just, 'Ho,Ho,Ho') and generally
recuperating. Then while the rest of the world is sleeping off New Years
Eve, he starts the wheels in motion for the coming year. If he's lucky,
around June he and the Mrs. have things rolling along smoothly enough
so they can head to Cali for a much deserved rest. When he's in LA
(specific location Top Secret) he likes to keep it on the down-low by
cruising around in his beat up 1956 Dodge truck. Now, you'd think he'd
have to go to freaking Siberia not to be mobbed like Justin Bieber,
but it turns out that hiding in plain sight is really the perfect
strategy. When he's out and about in the truck, most people just think
he's an old biker dude with a long white beard (he wears a lot of Grateful Dead tee shirts...) and when he does get outed by some kid (he is
Santa after all...), the parents usually just roll their eyes, shush
the kid, apologize to old dude in the vintage rock tee and snowy facial
hair and drag them away while the pathetic (and totally correct...)
little tyke is screaming, 'It's SANTA! It's SANTA. WAIT!!! I need to talk to him!!!".
Photo;Shandra Beri
Photo;Shandra Beri
Photo;Shandra Beri
Photo;Shandra Beri
Photo;Shandra Beri
Photo;Shandra Beri
Photo;Shandra Beri
Photo;Shandra Beri
Photo;Shandra Beri
Anyway the point is, if anyone deserves a little warm weather for a couple of months a year, it's Santa and right after he leaves the lazy palm trees and sunshine of southern California he hops on his hog and heads to South Dakota to spend a week at the Sturgis Ralley (yes, he DOES have a Harley and for that week, Mrs.Claus lets him call her 'the old lady'). It's hard to explain, but being around all those other 'lifer' bellies and beards helps him feel like he's not alone (the millions of pasty, borderline pervy 'seasonal Santas' running around all the malls in cheap, dirty polyester suits just depress him, give him the creeps and make him question his career path). After that he's back at it in the North Pole refreshed and and ready to sort out all the minutia regarding who's been naughty and who's been nice.
Photo;Shandra Beri
P.S. The truck isn't really for sale, but Santa keeps the sign in the back window because he loves to haggle with people who try to buy it. When things get really stressful with the elves, he can always get a laugh out of them by telling them how he acts insulted and gets scrappy when people try to lowball him.
(Guess who gets coal in their stockings...)
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