The Santa Myth
Let me get this straight – a fat, bearded bloke, all dressed in red, is driven around the world once a year by a bunch of genetically modified reindeer in a sleigh big enough for the gifts of 1 Billion+ children, gifts made by elves, some of whom are reportedly 1000 years or more, in a place most would associate with a sweatshop, but is more commonly referred to as a ‘toyshop’.  He then breaks into the houses by ‘magically’ squeezing down a chimney (assuming chimneys still exist on the houses of today), leaves the gifts under the trees in those houses whilst snacking on cookies and various beverages, and he’s back to the North Pole by Christmas Day.

This man also has a ‘List’, which is split in two – a ‘Nice List’ and a ‘Naughty List’ (I know which ‘List’ I’ll be on for writing this), a ‘List’ he constantly updates for those he delivers gifts to.  I can only assume he is able to keep this ‘List’ due to his amazing telepathic powers, or due to some highly advanced form of surveillance on the children of the world.  If it were the latter, I’m surprised the CIA haven’t yet employed him.

In any other circumstance, we would laugh this off as utterly impossible and tell old Uncle Barney to lay off the Malt Liquor, yet instead we feed this story to our kids, year after year.

The story of Santa, or Saint Nicholas, is derived from the Dutch figure Sinterklaas, and according to a tradition traceable back to the 1820s, he lives at the North Pole with his army of elves and reindeer, preparing year round to be ready for his special trip on Christmas Eve.

I can understand the logic behind the telling of this story to our kids – the joy, and the magic, of a jolly man, bringing happiness to the children of the world by delivering gifts to them at the special time of year that is Christmas.

Don’t get me wrong; I love Christmas time.  I love the colourful decorations, I love the giving and receiving of gifts, I love the food, I love the time off work, but most of all, I love the time spent with family and celebrating the year with those whose time you cherish most.  Christmas, to me, is about these things and these things alone.

When relaying these thoughts to others recently, I was told of a quote from Miracle on 34^th Street (a film, I must admit, I am yet to see) – “Which is better?  To believe a lie that draws a smile?  Or a truth that draws a tear?”  My response to it is – let’s not tell this story to our children in the first place, and give them the “truth that draws a tear” upfront, early on in the piece, rather than the “lie that draws a smile”.  Sometimes, you’ve got to be cruel to be kind, and this, I believe, is one of those occasions – give our children the hard answer now, and they’ll be better off in the long run.  After all, what’s the inevitable reaction when they eventually find out the fat man doesn’t exist?

I’m not saying it’s wrong to tell our children the Santa story – after all, it’s healthy to have a bit of make believe now and then – all I’m saying is, I don’t particularly like the practise much anymore.  I suppose my thoughts on the subject will be tempered somewhat when I have children, but right now, I’ll have my truth and tear to go, thanks.

The “Christmas Spirit”
It is also around this time of year that I hear constant references to the “Christmas Spirit”, and when I get angry or frustrated at someone or about something, the question is often asked: “Where’s your ‘Christmas Spirit’?” to which I respond, “I’ve got beer in the fridge.  And no, you can’t have any.”

The notion of “Christmas Spirit”, to me, is ludicrous.  Seemingly just because it’s coming up to Christmas time, everyone is meant to be imbued with some sort of seasonal feeling of joy, which all of a sudden magically disappears as soon as Christmas has passed us by again. If I want to be happy, I’ll be happy, but if I want to be angry/grumpy, I will be, regardless of the time of year.

Having worked in the retail industry, the “Christmas Spirit” was often in play – customers you would dread at any other time of year would wish you a “Merry Christmas”, or ask “What are you doing for Christmas?” when at any other time of year you wouldn’t be worth the time of day to these people.  If you can be nice to someone at Christmas time, you can be nice to them all year round.

Another thing that gets my goat is people telling me I’m a “Grinch” for expressing these views about Santa and the “Christmas Spirit”.  Well, if I’m a “Grinch” for expressing these views, so be it.  Christmas is a time for family, a time for celebration and a time for merriment, not a time for untruths and a supposed seasonal liking of your fellow man for one month of the year.

So, a Merry Christmas to all, and celebrate how you intend to celebrate; just don’t tell me to continue to embrace the story of a fat North Pole resident whilst under the influence of your “Christmas Spirit”.