Sweet, Dark and Crazy

Monday, November 9, 2009

Christmas Memory #1

I was a big fan of Santa. A really big fan. I had seen all the movies, read the books, sung the songs. I knew Santa. As always I was excited to see the big guy. I was about six and in my true fashion, I had my list prioritized and ready.

Mom and I headed to the mall. The line was long as we waited. I couldn't see him at first but as we got a bit closer, I became confused and dismayed.

I said, "Mom, who is that?" As I pointed at the man who claimed to be Santa.

"That's Santa Claus." My mother responded confidently.

With equal confidence, I responded, "No it's not. That's not Santa."

"Why sure it is," she said, still trying to pull the wool over my eyes.

"No its not," I responded refusing to fall for the old okie-doke.

I explained, "Santa Claus is a white man." Pointing to the impostor, I exclaimed, "He's BLACK."

Trying to quiet my increasingly loud revelations, my mother tries to explain. She says, "Santa can't be everywhere, sometimes he sends people to help."

Even as a child, I had misgivings about going through 'the help.' I was used to dealing with the owner. I wanted to talk to the big guy. Not only did I want to talk to the big guy, I wanted to alert my fellow children to the game they were trying to run on us!

How dare you!

I was mad. I couldn't believe they were trying to pass this guy off as the real deal. I was an expert. I'd seen all the televisions shows: Rudolph, Frosty, The Grinch, A Year Without A Santa Claus, when was Santa black? He might have been a redhead in his younger days but he was never a Negro!

After much protesting and before I could start a Black Santa Revolt, my mother pulled me out of line and took me to see a more suitable Santa.

To this day, the thought of a Black Santa makes me want to slap someone.

Labels: Christmas, Family, Memories

posted by SDC @ 3:01 PM

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