by RICK DANLEY // December 2, 2015
Santa Claus is inviting area children to Iola’s courthouse square Thursday between 5 and 7 p.m. Old Saint Nick, currently on the road promoting Christmas, met with the Register in a back booth at the A&W on Tuesday. He spoke expectantly about the kids he’ll meet this week at the Toy Shop, but, he admitted, he misses the North Pole and he’s itching to take the sleigh out for another spin. At the end of the interview, Santa, who’s been on the road — and away from Mrs. Claus — for many weeks now, held one of the diner’s glass salt shakers in his hand. He peered closely at the grains before returning it to the table: “Reminds me of the North Pole.”
Hello, Santa Claus.
Ho, ho, ho. Ho, ho, ho, ho. Hi.
Given global population figures, here pretty soon you’ll likely be consuming more than 6 million cookies in a single night. Could you tell Register readers your favorite kind?
Chocolate chip.
What if children aren’t able to leave cookies and milk? Does Santa have another favorite snack?
Graham crackers and frosting. But anything will do. Or nothing is OK, too
How do you feel after such a long night of delivering packages? As you’re pulling the sleigh into the garage after another successful Christmas, you must be exhausted. Sore back, blisters?
Not at all. I just feel happy. Really happy. I know the kids are going to be joyful when they wake up. A smile on their faces is all I want.
That’s noble, Santa. But, really, once you’re home and you’ve kicked off your boots and kissed Mrs. Claus, how does a man of your temper relax after such a grueling flight?
Well, first I have a big glass of milk…
More milk!
More milk. And then I like to sit by the fire.
I’ve always wondered — how does Santa leave presents for the boy or girl whose home has no chimney? Kids in trailers, for example? Or children living in shelters?
Santa will find them — he always does — wherever they live. I can use a window sometimes.
Is it true that, on the night of December 25, you receive special dispensation from law enforcement to enter any home under the cloak of darkness — and by any means available — and that you, Saint Nick, are the exclusive possessor of such a permit?
What?
Nothing. Anyway, I hope this isn’t rude, but I am noticing some gray in your beard. Can I ask how old you are?
Honestly, I’ve forgotten. I’ve been doing this thing forever.
And how long will you keep it up?
As long as I can. As long as they believe.
From your perch way up in the North Pole, how can you know for sure which children are naughty and which are nice?
That’s what the elves are for. See, the elves help me keep watch. [Editors’ note: The Clauses “employ” thousands of indentured helpers each year — the couple insists it’s the only way to get Operation Xmas turned around in time. These helpers, often very small, are Santa’s elves.]
Other than Christmas, what’s your favorite holiday?
Thanksgiving. It gets me plump for the season.
OK, you brought it up…. Listen, I totally get it, a strict milk-and-cookie diet can be a real nightmare on the waistline. Is there exercise equipment at the North Pole? Or maybe a nearby gym?
There is, but I don’t use it very often. Santa doesn’t want to lose his figure. Because he’s Santa.
How do you spend your off-season, Claus?
Thinking of faster routes for my sleigh.
What about unrelated hobbies? Do you have a favorite TV show?
I like the one where people are looking to buy a new home. But in different parts of the world. What is it? “House Hunters International” — I think that’s what it’s called. I love that show.
You mentioned Mrs. Claus? What’s her role back at HQ?
She makes sure my eyeglasses are the right prescription.
Why do you do it, Santa? The whole thing — what’s the point?
To give kids, especially underprivileged kids, something special. Maybe leave something for them that they really want. Especially kids that aren’t being provided for during the rest of the year. I guess it’s just the thing I can do.
What do you think about on that night, when you’re all alone in the sleigh?
I’m thinking about the kids. I get excited about each one. Do you know the look? Do you? The look when a child opens that special gift. It’s a radiant thing. I know every one of those kids by name.
I also like the quiet time up in the sky. And I think about the parents then, too. And how the duty for grown-ups, who know too well that life can deliver harsh blows, is to at least protect the special pocket of wonder that surrounds the Christmas season. The lights, the carols, the reaching into the bottom of the stocking, the smells (pine and gingerbread), the food, the gifts — in a perfect world these favors would be the inheritance of every child. At night, in my sleigh, with the wind in my beard, those are the things I ponder.
Wow, Santa.
Not done. The thrill of flying, my boy! The black sky racing with stars, the navy blue sea silent below. The reindeer bells drawing a friendly pattern of sound in the air…
That’s right, the reindeer! I almost forgot to ask. Can you remind Register readers of the names of your eight reindeer?
Uh, yes. Dasher, Comet. Blitzen. Blitzen, right? Donna?
Donner.
Donner. And Dancer. And…and [Vixen and Cupid.]
Great job, Santa Claus! Merry Christmas.
“Merry Christmas, everyone!” shouted Santa, getting up from the booth. A man in a John Deere cap at a nearby table lifted his cup toward Saint Nicholas and smiled. “Ho, ho, ho,” boomed Santa. “Ho, ho, ho, ho.” And with that he left the restaurant, disappearing down the sunlit sidewalk, shaking with laughter.
