By Mark David Blum, Esq.
For almost two decades, this used to be the time of year when this evil hearted, child hating, Christian baiting, Jew volunteered his services on behalf of that jolly fat man and his worldwide mission of bringing pleasure to Christian spawn. Specifically, children all over send in their wishes and prayers to the Great and Powerful Claus via U.S. mail. My local post office would pawn the letters off on me.
The United States Postal Service used to have a program called “Operation Santa’ whereby children’s letters to Santa were made available to the public who would want to respond to the letters as if Santa himself were the author. In New York City, people would take letters by the handful. Here, in Manlius, *I* alone was the guy.
But our society has gone off the deep end with its paranoia about children. A couple of years ago, “Operation Santa” was officially cancelled by the Post Office downstate because a registered sex offender signed up to do Santa. Last year, the cancer spread to Upstate New York where by fiat and decree, all Santa letters are being sent to Albany for review and processing. It is as if the post office considers me a threat to children and I resent that implication. No more Santa letters for Mark. Society and the USPS went ummm, "postal" and cut off us good hearted Santas from those who need us most. The public can no longer participate in ‘Operation Santa’. We simply cannot be trusted. So our tax dollars will fund postal workers to spend precious resources during their busiest season to do what people like me used to do for free and out of love.
It was fun and not a little ironic that responding to such children’s wish lists was an offspring of the killer of Christ. I used to be able to light a nice fire, open a bottle of wine, kick back, and let my creative wheels churn away. For so many years, it was a tradition as much as a turkey on Thanksgiving. Now, I am alone for the holiday.
Pick your jaws up off the floor. There is no contradiction to being a Jew and sharing the spirit of Christmas with others. I see no Christ in Christmas and neither should you. Happy Holidays to one and all.
Being an honorable man, I attempted the illusion of Santa actually responding from the North Pole. I designed my own personal ‘from the Desk of Santa Claus’ stationary and letterhead. I would write a personal note to each child. In doing so, it was my hope that the magic and dreams that fuel Christian minds are continued at least another year. After all, lose your dreams and you have lost it all. Now I learn that I have been stripped of that joy because of some overly sensitive and paranoid officials at the post office.
As much fun and joy as I find in writing letters to children and doing my share to advance the spirit of Christmas, the dark and evil part of me always taunted and teased me. You do not have to be a registered sex offender to pose a threat to a child. At the same time I write pleasant and age appropriate words to young impressionable minds, I could have instead been totally evil and sought revenge for more than 2,000 years of oppression.
But, I did learn some very valuable lessons that today’s marketing departments should heed.
Year after year, America’s retailers got it all wrong. Nothing ever mentioned on any of the wish lists I reviewed matched a single item seen on television … except for the couple of children who wished for a Wii and one for an I Mac. Otherwise, it was always legos, barbies, erasable pens, and my personal favorite, a hover board from the movie Back to the Future, II. Generally there is always in the back of my mind the fear that I am going to come across that one letter that rips out my heart. “Please Santa, help Daddy find a job and Mommy to stop taking so many pills.” One year there was one letter where a little girl had listed “a bed” on her list. Hopefully she meant a new bed and is not a child going without a bed at all in which to sleep. But, even if she was indeed without any bed at all, it would not be a moving request. Sleeping on the floor in no big deal; I did it for too many years. The baby Jesus slept in a pile of hay in a barn surrounded by animals. If it was good enough for Him, it is good enough for a Cazenovia kid.
Some of the letters were absolute standouts. To the one addressed to “Mr. Santa Claus”; I had to drop everything and give him my primary attention. The kid sure knows how to suck up and will grow up Republican. Clearly an Alex P. Keaton in training; I don’t believe Santa needs such formality. But it never hurts to hurl the accolades. The kid should definitely look into law school.
Even smarter than the Mr. Claus kid was the one who actually sent money along with a wish list. Someone should tell that kid that his little gift messed up Santa’s taxes for the year and the last thing he needed was all the extra paperwork. Besides, the kid must be crazy to think that his 26 cents was enough to get Santa’s attention. Reindeer snot has a better chance. Listen boys and girls, if you want to bribe the Great and Powerful Claus, think lots more zeros. Rest assured that kid will be hearing from my accountant AND my lawyer.
Then there are the kids who think they can pull a fast one. This Santa once found two letters sent by the same kid … on two different dates. Did he really think I would not notice? Santa knows all and sees all. As much as I wanted to zap him a load of coal, Santa was more impressed with the primary item on the wish list. This kid twice begged me … ME, Santa … for a Hover Board as seen in the movie Back to the Future, II. Just who did he think he is? Nobody gets one of those for at least another 2 years; I don’t care how many times you ask. In fact, the more times he asks, the further back on the list his name goes. Can you imagine if Santa actually granted that wish and gave this overly anxious kid a hover board? Since it would be the first one out there, Santa would not be able to keep it a secret any longer. Next year, Santa would end up handing out hover boards to every whiney complaining kid out there. THAT is the last thing needed by Santa's aching back and overloaded sled.
Once, a kid who may be perhaps a young Luke Skywalker or Eric Kleibold in training ordered the Legos Imperial Death Star Destroyer, Legos Starwars set for the Death Star, Legos starwars for Mac, Legos bricks, “5,000 Legos”, 40 clone Lego storm troopers, 40 Lego droids, 22 Lego light sabers, and Jaba’s Palace Boat. It seemed as though that child was well on his way to a career in civil service given how he equips his forces like the former Secretary of Defense. (22 light sabers for 80 soldiers?). I also wonder if anybody has checked who this young Mr. Jamelski may have Lego bricked up in his cellar. “It puts the lotion on the skin ….”
I am going to miss the humble kids and the ones who draw Santa pretty pictures. Some kids share their lives and question Santa and his doings. One child went so far as to ask if it was true that animals can talk to each other on Christmas Eve. You should know that I did confirm that animals can indeed talk on Xmas eve. I confessed how my reindeer are always yelling at me to quit taking bong hits for Jesus and get a job. But, as for talking animals; I read somewhere animals think that some of them are “better than others”. To me, so long as the meat is tenderized properly, I should be able to enjoy a tasty reindeer feast just before my long winter’s nap. As for bong hits and work … Working one day a year is more than enough. You try traveling at 5x the speed of light for 24 hours stop-go, stop-go, stop-go. See how long you keep off the bong and stay on unemployment.
Once, I received a large envelope from an entire class from a local elementary school. Thirty something specific wishes were contained inside ranging from Barbie Dolls to Barbie Dolls. It was apparently a writing lesson and all the children selected ‘good’ or ‘very good’ as their description for the behavior the previous year. One identified the fact that he went to school every day as being his good behavior. Good for all of them. The four blank pages in the school’s envelope still befuddle me, but perhaps I can use them for my own wish list. “Santa, I been good. Now, can I PLEASE HAVE next week’s winning lotto numbers?”
It was fun also to receive the letter from the lawyer-to-be. He spent half a page of typewritten text making his case how he was a good boy all year. Many examples of his good behavior were given including how he did not give his parents shit when they moved him here from another State. This fine young man in a most lawyeresque fashion, even offered Santa a compromise on his gifts.
Another child was far too involved in civics. Calling Santa's attention to the dying economy, the child understood Santa was not going to be as generous as normal. Santa got all ferklept and told the child that he should thank the Republicans and that he, the boy would be getting a stick for Christmas. Santa learned that the stick was finally officially inducted into the Toy Hall of Fame. Every boy needs a stick. Santa uses the same rationale when he gives toilet paper for Christmas; everybody needs toilet paper.
Then there was the show-off letter. Written on stationary from the Beijing Olympics and accompanied by an actual Christmas card (note: Festive Holiday, not Merry Xmas), I was intrigued by this young world traveler. Given how precious would be stationary from Beijing from the Olympics as a collector’s item, using it as a letter to Santa made Santa all the more impressed.
One letter stood out because of what it didn’t say. The little girl’s letter started out, “Dear Santa, I don’t really know what I want for Christmas … can you get something I might like.” My response to her was simple. “Listen Darling, I am kinda busy right now and if you don’t know what you want, how am I supposed to know? Why would you write me a letter saying you want something but don’t know what? Jeezuz H Freekin Christ – make a decision, Bitch!”
Among my favorites were the one with five squiggly pencil lines strewn across a piece of scrap paper and the one with all the detailed art work but no name or address. Santa knows (almost) everything and can easily read between the lines. Just don’t ask Santa to guess who sent the letter; there is so much for Santa to do to get ready that he hasn’t time to try and figure out which kid sent the letter.
Ultimately, I never got to say what I sometimes so ached to do. “Dear Billy, Santa is Dead. Jesus Killed him and the Jews Killed Jesus.” Likewise, I was tempted to tell kids they will get everything they ever wanted or dreamed of … all they have to do is go into Mommy’s purse, take the credit cards out her wallet, and call Santa with the numbers. You have no idea how many times Santa could have reached out and touched all these children in some very inappropriate ways. In one fell swoop, the damage this Jew could cause a generation of Christian offspring would last until April … when we need their blood to make our matzahs for Passover.
This thing I did every year was a great deal of fun. Nowadays the post office perceives volunteers like me as being the naked guy hiding in the bushes outside the kid’s room at night who might sneak in and kill everybody in the house. What I want to know is who snitched.
Good luck with your kids this holiday season. You are going to need it. There is a generation without empathy out there and I feel that is a dangerous thing. I sincerely hope whoever it is in Albany that is doing the Santa letters has a heart for children. The kid who sent me a quarter and a penny got his money back with Santa’s encouragement he use it to feed the poor and that he always find ways to give his spare money to the hungry.
I have known the employees at my local post office for more than the 23 years I have lived in this zip code. We have a great working relationship and I fault them not for the ignorance and raging paranoia of their superiors. A great disservice is being perpetrated upon our community. Postal authorities are operating on a presumption that us Santa people pose a threat to children and without even being given the benefit of the doubt, have been stripped of one of life’s little pleasures. Shame on the USPS and their attitude toward the public.
Indeed I am saddened by this change in postal policy. Something has been taken from me. A part of the holiday’s joy will go missing this year. Who knows, maybe instead Warren Buffet will answer my Christmas wish from his sleigh full of good cheer.