Confessions of a Santaist
Meet Santa... Give your life to him
"It all started when I was just a boy. My parents told me that Santa was watching me, watching to see if I had been naughty. They said He saw me when I was sleeping, and that He knew when I was awake. They told of dire rewards that would come my way if I did not meet His Code of conduct." The elderly looking man in a suit the color of fresh blood took a long drag on his pipe. "There were the horror stories of what happened to disobedient children and adults. The tale of Marley was served up annually as a warning."
"Then they took me to meet Him" He grinned fiendishly with the recollection. "I was only two or three. There was a crowd of worshipers around Him, all offering their petitions to Him, and assuring Him they had been 'good'. Small children screamed and cried as their parents forced them onto His lap and into His arms. They told me not to be afraid and Santa would fulfill my desires. I believed."
Then the Sacrifices Began...
"My parents would tell me that to win Santa's favor, I had to give up the things that satisfied me most. They encouraged me to give my allowance and lemonade stand money to His disciples on street corners. No sacrifice was too small, or too large. They told me to give of myself to further His spirit."
"It was an all pervasive phenomenon. Teachers, sales clerks, newspapers and television shows all encouraged me to give, especially at the time of His most holy days. I would routinely be encouraged to go deeply into debt to pay homage to Him, to serve his Purpose." The man tugged at his full, bushy, beard. "I worshiped Him as a layman for many years. Even after my parents lost the faith, telling me that Santa did not really exist, I believed. I secretly scorned those who did not adhere to the faith, and I mocked them. I ate fiendishly in the winter months to emulate Him."
"Finally, one year, I had gone so far into debt for His cause and that I was finally offered the opportunity to be one of His living avatars, a Department Store Santa. Thus began my descent into His inner circle, The Order of Santaists (TOSs)."
Initiation
"My initiation was a true ordeal. I was instructed to arrive at the mall in the predawn hours on the day after Thanksgiving. It was freezing cold, yet we had been told only to wear t-shirts and black pants. Our other garb would be provided."
"There were many of us there. Those who were already initiates wore the red and white fur hat of the Order. We were led into a dimly lit storeroom of some sort, and handed the white trimmed robes of an avatar. Those who did not have enough bulk to emulate Him were provided padding for their bellies." He shook his ample midsection. "I had no need for padding."
"As we donned them, we were instructed carefully in the wearing of them, and of things that we must never do while wearing them, lest His Image be besmirched. You know, The Code of Santa: no smoking, no swearing, no chewing gum, no cigarettes, no spitting. The consequences for disobedience were drastic, we would be dismissed from the Order and given over to the fire, forever separated from His service."
"When we had all robed in red and white, we were led into a brightly lit room. There, the acolytes, also called Elves, put on us the white Hair and Beard of an avatar of Santa. It was a magic moment. The leader, who had no need of false hair to be an avatar, led us in the chants of Santa." He sat back in his chair, straightened himself, and began "Ho, Ho, Ho, Merry Christmas! What do you want Santa to bring you this year? Have you been good?"
"We were coached, and cajoled, to putting the full depth of our voices into it, and not to forget the twinkle in the eye. We were solemnly told that how we conducted ourselves as His avatars would have a profound impression on the young, and that we embodied Santa to the common man. We were given custody of our robes and hair, and instructed on how to keep them in a state acceptable to Him."
"Then we shared a bottle of Holiday Cheer. I was now an initiated Santaist."
Life as a Santaist Priest
"So it began. Each year in November, earlier and earlier it seemed, we would gather to renew our vows and initiate new members. We would then serve as His avatars to thousands, at many locations and times. We would be screamed at, urinated on, sworn at and laughed at. Yet we maintained the Code of Santa."
"At each day's end, when all of the worshipers had left, we would once more break out the holiday cheer as we disrobed. After our rites were done, we would often adjourn to a nearby bar, to celebrate more, and to swap stories about our encounters as his priests. I became very adept at making hangover remedies."
"Soon I was not only a Department Store Santa, but a Party Santa as well. I had my own robes and hair, and would hire out to private parties to spread His cheer at their festivities. Young and old, rich and poor, they all sought the services of The Order of Santa. I even helped train and initiate younger acolytes, either to be elves, or avatars."
The Brides of Santa
"Then I met the Brides of Santa, those women who took on the mantle of Mrs Claus, symbolically wedded to Santa himself. None of them were particularly pretty, being overweight and wearing granny glasses. Yet the ones that I made appearances with made every effort to satisfy my every need, in the true spirit of Santa."
"It was that way in which I met my mortal wife, who married me on His day, with many of our fellow priests and priestesses in attendance. Our very lives revolved around Santa, year 'round, not just in December anymore. We even had a living Tree in our small apartment, decorated with Santa ornaments, that we never took down. Our living room was decorated with snowflake, pine, and holly motif upholstery and throws."
"All year long, we worked for Santa. I got a job at a tree farm, she worked at a handicrafts shoppe. In her spare time, she would make knitted items to give as sacrifices in his name. Even though we had no children, I made toys in my small workshop, seeking to emulate Him in all that I could. Every year we gave our handiwork away in His name."
Now
"Now my hair and beard are truly white, just like His." The man shook his ample belly. "I have the width, the white, and the wife of a true Priest of Santa. Tell all of your readers that life with Him is a thing to strive for. Become at least an elf, and be sure to share His glory with the young. For they too, shall come to Santa...."
With that he waved his pipe around in the air, drawing a pattern with the smoke. "May the Blessings of Santa be with you! Ho, Ho, Hooooo..."
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Confessions of a Santaist
Going through my hard drive, I found this, among a few other files I'll share over the next day or two...
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment