Santa is a lot of fun
With Christmas just around the corner, there are still no gifts anywhere in sight—not even a simple blouse!
To capture some holiday cheer, I chatted with R. David Robinson. Just to clarify, the “R” stands for Robert. He used to wait tables but figured out he could make a better living as an entertainer, becoming Santa for private events and even working at Carnegie Hall. Here’s a peek into his transformation:
“I typically talk in a lower voice. I listen closely to what children want. Nowadays, they’re all about gadgets—electronics, guitars, cell phones. Honestly, some of the requests confuse me. Like, what does a four-year-old really know? They mention things I can hardly grasp.”
“If a kid needs anything, I step away for a moment; I keep it separate. The kids handle it all well. So far, I haven’t had any accidents—thankfully. I have a belly pad for comfort. My Santa suit and beard? Custom-made, of course.”
“After 9/11, I took on the Santa role more seriously. I offered hugs and spent time with the kids. They needed that kind of comfort. I stayed quiet about the heaviness they just went through. When they don’t want to see Santa, it hurts. I’ve been waiting all year to bring them joy. I also have my own kids to look out for, so little by little, I started attending private events to support them.”
“I’ve done other corporate gigs too, like Easter events and even a night at a friary. You and your husband were part of that one. I found out that being Santa isn’t just about the ho-ho-ho. It feels more like an o-ho-o-o!”
When he’s not in his Santa suit, Mr. Klaus gets some Pilates in—essential for that chimney slide.
Another thing that’s curious: Why December 25th? There’s really no single answer. Some say it’s about the winter solstice, while others believe it speaks to Jesus’ birthday. Then there’s this idea that it’s the birthday of some pagan sun. Honestly, I’m not quite sure what that all means.
(Cheesy) good old days
This is Adams’ recent daydream about old New York. It’s a blend of nostalgia and some cynical reflections. Soap was just 8 cents. Coffee was 21 cents, and bread? Only 12 cents. I even paid 11 cents for a scrub brush to clean up. And what about the mayor back then? Fernando Wood is a name that barely rings a bell for anyone—perhaps only for Mrs. Wood. As I look back to 1860, just weeks before my own birth, renting a whole house cost $60 a month. Fast forward—my current dinner outfit consists of a basic blue necktie from Hermès for $350 plus shipping. What a difference!
Can’t you add weight to it?
I stumbled upon something interesting in the old London Sun. “Pudgy Prince Andrew is on a colon cleanse to shed some weight from his 210 pounds. His ex-wife Fergie swears by it, and he’s already dropped 14 pounds, hoping to lose 28 more. His new regimen excludes meat, fish, poultry, and dairy. He’s sticking to rice, beans, lentils, raw veggies, and ginger-flavored warm water.” In other weight news, prune growers are looking to refresh their outdated image, possibly changing the name to “dried plums.” It’s a move to attract younger consumers to this laxative fruit.
In a totally offbeat story, a non-Santa guy went shopping for his wife at a dress store. He asked for something that would fit a 34B bra. When a clerk inquired about his measurements, he nonchalantly stated, “I measured it with a hat.”
Christmas is nearly upon us, everyone!
