Reprinted from the Los Angeles Times, Monday, January 22, 2001
Red Suit
Recollections
Santas:
Messengers of the Christmas spirit trade tales poignant and silly as they
look back on another holiday season.
It's a tough job. They wear hot, heavy uniforms and answer questions from beard-pulling babies with demanding parents.
They
toil up to 14-hour days for a month and then go the rest of the year
without work.
Yes,
it's a tough job, they say, but somebody has to do it.
The 65 members of the Amalgamated Order of Real Bearded Santas do it each year with a smile--and a belly-shaking ho-ho-ho.
For six years, after the holidays have ended, the curly-haired Father Christmas Santas, ZZ Top bearded Santas and Santas with cowboy hats and boots have gathered from all over California at Clearman's North Woods Inn in La Mirada to trade stories, swap tips and reminisce
HO-HO-HO: Professional Santas, Tim Connaghan, Russ Ganata and Tom Mead, trade stories and share their bags of tricks at an annual gathering.
LUIS SINCO / Los Angeles Times
Sitting
in the fake-snow-covered lodge Sunday, they compared stories and beard
sizes over Bloody Marys and red wine.
According to these Santas, there are a few key rules.
For
those who do malls and parties, never promise anything, unless mommy and
daddy are vigorously nodding their heads behind junior's gaze. If you
can't hear what a child is saying, never ask her to repeat herself.
Instead, wait for a pause and say, "OK, what else would you
like?"
Real
Santas bring their own suits. Tim
Connaghan, who does print and TV ads, has five. He has a Renaissance outfit, the traditional red suit with
full fur, a traveling outfit, a lightweight suit he prefers to wear under
camera lights, and a formal Santa suit with embossed red stars.
"People
come a long way to see us. We
need to give them authenticity," said Tom Hartsfield from Downey, who
founded the order. "Some guys wear fancy shirts and no hat. But I'm a
traditionalist. I wear real leather boots and never go without
gloves."
Even
without a suit, a Santa never knows when he'll be recognized.
Sam Solace, a retired U.S. postal worker and Santa for 10 years,
recalled once stopping at a gas station about 3 a.m. in New Mexico.
"The owner came out and said her great grandmother wanted to talk to
me," he recalled. "She was an Indian. I don't know from what
tribe. But she gave me this silver and turquoise ring. Then she told me,
'Now, don't ever miss my grandchildren!’ ”
Despite
the commercialization of the holidays, Hartsfield said his Santas are held
to a higher standard. “They
don't advertise alcohol and nobody threatens them. A few years back, a TV
commercial showing Dennis Rodman muscling a Santa was pulled after only
one airing due to public outcry,” he said.
Santas
speak guardedly about the hazards of their profession.
One bearded Santa who asked not to be named said a woman filed a
complaint against him after discovering he didn't travel with his
reindeer. Another Santa said he was extra careful with teenage girls,
keeping his hands in full view at all times.
The
Santas say they find it fun playing for adults.
"You already know kids are going to get excited, but there's
something beautiful about the look on a parent's face because it's less
expected," said Michael Lee Goggin, an actor in Los Angeles and one
of the few elves given honorary membership in the order.
Hartsfield
said he is rarely surprised by Santa requests.
The most popular gift for girls is the same each year. Barbies.
Boys are less predictable. This year it was a robot puppy dog.
Sometimes
the requests tear at Santa's heart. One
girl wanted Hartsfield to get her parents back together. But, the saddest
came from a woman who asked to die. "She
was sick with cancer. I tried
to protest, but what do you really say to that?" he wondered.
But,
even Santas have insecurities. After
lunch, one Santa whispered, "My problem, and I can't tell anyone, is
that I still don't know all the names of my reindeer, never did learn 'em."
Copyright 2000 Los Angeles Times