Turns out this guy was NOT Santa. I must have known that, because I look desperate to get off his lap.I just had an idea for a Hollywood screenplay in which some guy tracks down the fake Santa in a picture from his childhood and maybe becomes convinced that the guy really IS Santa Claus. Sorta Miracle on 34th Street meets What About Bob? I have no intention of writing it, but in the right hands it could probably be pretty funny. In the wrong hands ... it could be deadly.
Stimpy: So what'll happen?
Ren: That's just it. We don't know. Maybe something bad, maybe something good. I guess we'll never know... because you're going to guard it. You won't touch it, will you?
Like most kids, I knew Santa didn't exist well before I was willing to admit it to myself. I say "like most kids" without even a shred of scientific data to back up such a claim, only my pathetic to desire to belong to a group larger than myself. I wasn't nearly as bitter about the deception as some other people were (my brother, who as a teenager would find ANY excuse to be angry, is one example), because I think I felt that the magic of childhood couldn't be spoon fed from the adult world, it was simply not their place to invent it for us. I invented enough on my own. Blah blah blah... I should get back to that screenplay that I'm not writing.
Dear Charlie,
ReplyDeleteI learned there was no Santa as an actual living person the year that my older sister found the toys hidden on top of a cupboard and showed them to me. We played with them all before Christmas and even broke some of them. We lost something more precious than the toys that year.
Bob L.