The equipment has been sketchy at best as has everything the parent company has been responsible for. I'm pretty sure that they make pretty good money, they could afford to be a little freer with upgrades, but the way much has been handled so far this year they don't expect to be in this region next year... That's just the wind up for todays near- miss-
Every year, a Santa is noticed on the national screen, and nearly never for the good that we do.
"Santa refuses to see a little girl because her service animal is a pit bull"
"Santa refuses to let little handicapped girl sit on his lap"
"Santa manhandles little girl to ruin mother's cell phone shots"
(This line of work is fraught with perils enough that Santa often carries an insurance rider against such lawsuits)
You never see,
"Santa watches mom watch little boy put his finger up his nose just moments before she put him on Santa's lap and hugs child anyway"
"Santa saves family's Christmas memories"
"Old fat guy gets on floor to be less intimidating to children who's anticipation reached overload"
So today I am escorted out from my sanctuary/dressing room about 5 minutes late because part of the crew had gone and ordered lunch for the crew before the shift started. Along with her, in her apron pocket, were the keys to the cupboards with all of the incidentals that make it easier to make children laugh, or at least get their attention, and while we meant well and intended to begin without ado because children come excited and will "run out" if we aren't careful when disaster struck-
The camera that we used last night to replace the camera that wouldn't talk to the computer wouldn't talk to the computer and when it did the blur was pronounced enough that, in keeping with the talking motif, it had been drinking and was slurring it's words.
(At one point I'm pretty certain that it hit on the computer in some unwanted fashion and had to be removed)
The first guy in line seemed to have some knowledge of cameras but somehow couldn't hold his mouth just right and made no headway.
IT, who by now is on speed dial and the manager refers to "Jimmy" and her new BFF has today off, but so does the manager who has forged such a great relationship with him so we were happy that the first guy in line was at least willing to try. He wasn't very happy to be taking pictures with his cell phone but he was a pretty happy guy so it really just dialed down his happy instead of dialing up his anxiety.
There were others try their hand at "pulling the sword from the stone" but it took the PIC's slow hand tactic to get us off the ground.
After a while we had winnowed the crowd down and crying baby and helicopter parent thinned out to a fairly happy crowd and the tactic changed and I wasn't sure who was in charge. The source of children had split, and I am okay with that except that the flow had changed and visiting children, children whose parents had opted out of pictures, were now funneled through the same side as the folks with reservations.
Why does this matter you ask? Because people with reservations have reservations and visitors don't have them. They specifically don't want to buy pictures, which, again, is no skin of my nose but I'm hearing about a reservation and the side without reservations is coming toward me and there is someone coming from the reservation side at the same time...
I asked the crew who was coming and the wife of the man who was paying for pictures (happened to be dark skinned maybe Hispanic maybe South Seas I don't pay a lot of attention) asked what was going on and he replied, "He wants to make sure who is paying for pictures..."
I said, "No sir, I wanted to make sure we were going in the right order, I don't care who is paying I want these children seen in the order that they got here"
The OTHER guy, the other family looked to be a middle income household who may have already opted for pictures but there children wanted to see Santa again or they just wanted to check out THIS Santa but they went second because they got there second.
This world, this culture of racism that I keep hearing about- seems to me to really often be about looking for reasons to claim offense.
Santa has been dealing with folks who are different or stand out from the crowd for as long as he's been at the North Pole and longer. Bullying and freezing out, but if you will recall he is now the most famous reindeer of all
Tuesday, January 17, 2017
Sunday, January 1, 2017
T'was The Morning of Christmas
the children all blessed and the goals were all met
the elves all dancing at a well deserved fete
Santa's long trip, again, down in the book
and Mrs Claus gives him that knowing look
she warms up his cocoa after pulling off his boots
there's a plate full of cookies and she hangs up his suit
then down sits she with him as he shares wonderous tales
of aurora borealis and great windy gales
of children so good they asked gifts for their brothers
these sweet innocent cherubs often thinking of others
and Tanta, the mrs, tells how it began
with an angel, a donkey an ox and a lamb
Angels some shepherds three wise men and a girl
that day, long ago and a child to change the world
the elves all dancing at a well deserved fete
Santa's long trip, again, down in the book
and Mrs Claus gives him that knowing look
she warms up his cocoa after pulling off his boots
there's a plate full of cookies and she hangs up his suit
then down sits she with him as he shares wonderous tales
of aurora borealis and great windy gales
of children so good they asked gifts for their brothers
these sweet innocent cherubs often thinking of others
and Tanta, the mrs, tells how it began
with an angel, a donkey an ox and a lamb
Angels some shepherds three wise men and a girl
that day, long ago and a child to change the world
Saint Nicholas of the Mall
It's always a pleasure when someone special comes and says hi and this young lady was no exception. I heard her exclaim "SANTA!" from midway down the mall and and the excitement and the vocal tone of someone with certain special needs was clear, through her exuberance, even from that distance.
She wore a heavy wig either to try to look pretty or perhaps she suffered some type of alepecia. Many complications often accompany birth defects where the most obvious result developmental disabilities. And then there are daily complications that sometimes stem from people responsible getting tired of making sure that the things people with normal function take for granted.
This sweet young lady had a problem and she wanted Santa's help with it.
Rarely do I cross over from a typical santa to a santa that reflects my opinion on things as I respect a parents right to teach their children how they would. I talk about sharing and other things that give a child the power to contribute to their society, but this young lady would be the rare exception.
She came for a visit, no one was paying for pictures...
She came and sat next to me and I offered to help her onto my lap (as is my custom) but she resisted.
She said "Santa I have to tell you something"
Now at this point I'm just thinking that this was her way of wanting to tell me about her wish list so my immediate answer was "Yes my dear?" expecting to hear the litany of toys that she had seen in magazines and on television when she blurted out,
"I have sores in the rash under my boobs..."
...
...
...
So what would you do?
I crossed the line and prayed, I mean who better to pray for?
Her PCAs were sitting on a bench 50 feet away and appeared glad that their charge was distracted by someone else for a minute, so I quietly prayed, "Pain go", "Rash and sores heal", pain, go...
I said "okay, I'll let you get back to your shopping" and off she went.
Her PCA asked her what we talked about and she declared that she had told me about her rash.
I know this because I heard her PCA state matter of factly, in the way that someone who is tired of someone else' simple nonsense says it and a few moments later this sweet innocent came back and said, "I'm sorry for interupting, can I just ask..."
She didn't even come near me-
"Can I maybe just have a nice sweater?"
And off she went to go about her life and those folks who guide her life went on about theirs thinking little of that chance encounter, but I continue to pray for the sore in the rash under her boobs.
Later that evening I was in a discussion about how to deal in a certain situation and I shared that story. I have no idea what bearing it had, but somehow I needed to share it. I didn't understand it at the time and I don't understand it now, but there is something about sores and rashes and dark places and friction.
Sometimes an irritation produces a pearl and sometimes it produces a sore-
ours is to be wise enough to know which
She wore a heavy wig either to try to look pretty or perhaps she suffered some type of alepecia. Many complications often accompany birth defects where the most obvious result developmental disabilities. And then there are daily complications that sometimes stem from people responsible getting tired of making sure that the things people with normal function take for granted.
This sweet young lady had a problem and she wanted Santa's help with it.
Rarely do I cross over from a typical santa to a santa that reflects my opinion on things as I respect a parents right to teach their children how they would. I talk about sharing and other things that give a child the power to contribute to their society, but this young lady would be the rare exception.
She came for a visit, no one was paying for pictures...
She came and sat next to me and I offered to help her onto my lap (as is my custom) but she resisted.
She said "Santa I have to tell you something"
Now at this point I'm just thinking that this was her way of wanting to tell me about her wish list so my immediate answer was "Yes my dear?" expecting to hear the litany of toys that she had seen in magazines and on television when she blurted out,
"I have sores in the rash under my boobs..."
...
...
...
So what would you do?
I crossed the line and prayed, I mean who better to pray for?
Her PCAs were sitting on a bench 50 feet away and appeared glad that their charge was distracted by someone else for a minute, so I quietly prayed, "Pain go", "Rash and sores heal", pain, go...
I said "okay, I'll let you get back to your shopping" and off she went.
Her PCA asked her what we talked about and she declared that she had told me about her rash.
I know this because I heard her PCA state matter of factly, in the way that someone who is tired of someone else' simple nonsense says it and a few moments later this sweet innocent came back and said, "I'm sorry for interupting, can I just ask..."
She didn't even come near me-
"Can I maybe just have a nice sweater?"
And off she went to go about her life and those folks who guide her life went on about theirs thinking little of that chance encounter, but I continue to pray for the sore in the rash under her boobs.
Later that evening I was in a discussion about how to deal in a certain situation and I shared that story. I have no idea what bearing it had, but somehow I needed to share it. I didn't understand it at the time and I don't understand it now, but there is something about sores and rashes and dark places and friction.
Sometimes an irritation produces a pearl and sometimes it produces a sore-
ours is to be wise enough to know which
Tuesday, December 6, 2016
Even the Least, But are They?
I saw them walking single file, the last one stopped dead in his tracks when he first noticed me.
I'm in the well worn path to the toy store.
He stopped... eyed me through thick glasses, I thought originally he was visually impaired but it became apparent that there was more going on.
Every four steps he would stop and peek in my direction to see what I was doing. Four steps and stop and peer, moving only his head on his neck, nothing else would change attitude or direction. Four steps and then whip his head and be still, like a heron hunting tadpoles, and then whip back and four steps.
It took him at least twice as long as it would have normally, and the counselor/guide had to, at one point, slow the group down for him in recognition of his behavior, whether uncommon or not.
I myself sat amused and wondered at his revelation... did he see through my disguise? Was he wondering that such a man, touted in story book and movie was really there? Did he fear that I was an apparition come to sneak up behind him and do him harm? Did He know that I am in fact a saint, called to bring peace and joy to this city where he finds himself making his way?
Answers I may never know, but I know that this is the best gig in town.
Friday, December 2, 2016
The protests were in full swing and the city felt a mixture of fear, unsettled and resignation. A young black man walked by our set and someone asked him if he wanted to talk to Santa. He said sure and slowly walked over, kind of dropped to the couch.
"What's going on" I asked. He said he was concerned about school and who he would become.
I said, "a fine young man like your self," and I stopped and said "look here in my eyes and hear me because this is the truth- people are looking for you, to invest in you for your future as well as theirs. You keep doing what you are doing and you're going to fulfill some dreams, more than just yours. Some dreams of other generations in your family"
"You can believe this or not, but Santa never lies..."
He popped up off of that couch and was gliding down the mall way and I knew he'd caught them vision, that he was going to see all of that come to pass when he stopped and through his fist in the air like he had been given something more than a participation trophy, he'd received a gift.
"What's going on" I asked. He said he was concerned about school and who he would become.
I said, "a fine young man like your self," and I stopped and said "look here in my eyes and hear me because this is the truth- people are looking for you, to invest in you for your future as well as theirs. You keep doing what you are doing and you're going to fulfill some dreams, more than just yours. Some dreams of other generations in your family"
"You can believe this or not, but Santa never lies..."
He popped up off of that couch and was gliding down the mall way and I knew he'd caught them vision, that he was going to see all of that come to pass when he stopped and through his fist in the air like he had been given something more than a participation trophy, he'd received a gift.
Thursday, December 1, 2016
Ode to a Safety Pin
Her children leavingNot left behind
Receiving merit
Just to be kind
Her query filled
By happy bovine
Would you like a safety pin?
Men passing,taunting
My race rules
As though they'd offered something
Prattling fools
And she in dim light
resembled a ghoul
Did you not see my safety pin?
The world around us
losing steam
Society sounds off
in mortal scream
it's coming apart
bursting it's seam
Did you see my safety pin?
Sunday, November 13, 2016
Christmas in the midst of anarchy
Twinkle twinkle Rudolph's nose
Here's the question that I pose
Can a city now named for hopeless woes
Awake in the morning and be yet a Rose
I was waiting for the beginning of the grand entry and parade, squirreled away from view in a corridor not likely to be used that time of day and a woman who I thought would just pass through. Her eyes had an aged sorrow in them and I knew that she was part of the heart of this city. She turned to me and said, "Do you know what I want this year Santa? I want them to stop fighting."
As I was settling in the "big chair" and the children were enjoying cookies and hot chocolate that were reportedly made by Mrs Claus the children made themselves busy decorating snowflakes to hang from the tree. many of the children made gifts of them to me, explaining that they had drawn on them portraits of Rudolph and myself making the great Christmas run, beautiful, they were and carrying the magic of a childs imagination, a magic with a great power of it's own.
Shortly after the crowd of children dissipated, Rian arrived. We had great fun giving everyone a thumbs up. Rian's thumbs were double jointed and I tried not to let my jealousy show. H left reassuring me that he would be back to visit again, this year or next I know not, but I look forward just the same.
She immediately struck me as the spitting image of Cindy Lauper. They same eyes as that beautiful woman and the same sorrow as the woman I mentioned before. She wished she could take a picture and share it with her family, I didn't know if that meant a street family or not but I was sure that she had legitimate relationships there. My staff told me a place where she was pretty sure that she had noticed her frequenting.
Regardless, she came and after the coaxing many need to overcome the fear that they may somehow hurt the delicate flower that I am not and she sat on my knee. She spoke without looking at me beyond a glance, embarrassed that she couldn't afford to pay for the photograph and disappointed that she couldn't get one and then shared her Christmas list consisting of one thing... a home. A home for her and her husband.
The day wore on and more than one group of adults that could have just awakened and rolled out of a hangover encrusted bed and trying to be silly but really not quite arriving at that particular destination until my helpers spotted on young African american man and something about him caused one of my cohorts to cajole him into sitting with me.
He sat next to me, again either being a young MAN or as so many others before him opted out of crushing my dainty snowflake visage, but regardless we had time to talk. Time to learn that he is in high school advanced placement psychology and hopes to persue that as well as media forms like television and radio.
He spent time trying to find words and was unsure how to ask for something that he knew very well was his to get, but he finally confessed that he wanted a scholarship.
I began to encourage him but he couldn't look me in the eyes for more than a moment as he spoke... I finally said, I had never asked him his name but I told him to stop and look me in the eye and hear my words.
I spoke to his destiny and told him that it was his to get, that he had it in him and that he shouldn't be surprised when it happened.
Then I sent him on his way and I noticed some swagger in his step that had been missing and at on point as he walked away he clapped his hands together in a victorious clap followed by a bit of a hop, he had a renewed hope. There had boldly crept in an anticipation of a victory that he hadn't yet caught sight of, and after all, isn't that what the hump is that we have to get over before we step into success?
Here's the question that I pose
Can a city now named for hopeless woes
Awake in the morning and be yet a Rose
I was waiting for the beginning of the grand entry and parade, squirreled away from view in a corridor not likely to be used that time of day and a woman who I thought would just pass through. Her eyes had an aged sorrow in them and I knew that she was part of the heart of this city. She turned to me and said, "Do you know what I want this year Santa? I want them to stop fighting."
As I was settling in the "big chair" and the children were enjoying cookies and hot chocolate that were reportedly made by Mrs Claus the children made themselves busy decorating snowflakes to hang from the tree. many of the children made gifts of them to me, explaining that they had drawn on them portraits of Rudolph and myself making the great Christmas run, beautiful, they were and carrying the magic of a childs imagination, a magic with a great power of it's own.
Shortly after the crowd of children dissipated, Rian arrived. We had great fun giving everyone a thumbs up. Rian's thumbs were double jointed and I tried not to let my jealousy show. H left reassuring me that he would be back to visit again, this year or next I know not, but I look forward just the same.
She immediately struck me as the spitting image of Cindy Lauper. They same eyes as that beautiful woman and the same sorrow as the woman I mentioned before. She wished she could take a picture and share it with her family, I didn't know if that meant a street family or not but I was sure that she had legitimate relationships there. My staff told me a place where she was pretty sure that she had noticed her frequenting.
Regardless, she came and after the coaxing many need to overcome the fear that they may somehow hurt the delicate flower that I am not and she sat on my knee. She spoke without looking at me beyond a glance, embarrassed that she couldn't afford to pay for the photograph and disappointed that she couldn't get one and then shared her Christmas list consisting of one thing... a home. A home for her and her husband.
The day wore on and more than one group of adults that could have just awakened and rolled out of a hangover encrusted bed and trying to be silly but really not quite arriving at that particular destination until my helpers spotted on young African american man and something about him caused one of my cohorts to cajole him into sitting with me.
He sat next to me, again either being a young MAN or as so many others before him opted out of crushing my dainty snowflake visage, but regardless we had time to talk. Time to learn that he is in high school advanced placement psychology and hopes to persue that as well as media forms like television and radio.
He spent time trying to find words and was unsure how to ask for something that he knew very well was his to get, but he finally confessed that he wanted a scholarship.
I began to encourage him but he couldn't look me in the eyes for more than a moment as he spoke... I finally said, I had never asked him his name but I told him to stop and look me in the eye and hear my words.
I spoke to his destiny and told him that it was his to get, that he had it in him and that he shouldn't be surprised when it happened.
Then I sent him on his way and I noticed some swagger in his step that had been missing and at on point as he walked away he clapped his hands together in a victorious clap followed by a bit of a hop, he had a renewed hope. There had boldly crept in an anticipation of a victory that he hadn't yet caught sight of, and after all, isn't that what the hump is that we have to get over before we step into success?
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