A CHRISTMAS TALE (PART ONE)

HEY - I need a break leading up to Christmas. Enjoy.

BRUTUS OF THE NORTH POLE

Yes, my name is Brutus and I am one of Santa’s (*sigh*) employees whose height status shall not be mentioned lest it bring offense to someone. Good Lord, I’ve been an elf-ay for what seems like a hundred years and I’m not even allowed to say the word on company property anymore. What I would really appreciate is no jokes about my name. It’s bad enough having to wear a work uniform that hasn’t been updated since the turn of the LAST century. I feel for the Swiss Guard.

I am the Public Relations manager. I keep Santa relevant and on the scene. Let me tell you it aint as easy as you might think. Now I’m good, really good, but it aint easy. Having Coke go back to its original recipe? Me. McDonald’s go healthy? Me. (Actually I did those on the side. The boss found out and warned me against freelancing. It’s good here I have no desire to relocate so I gave up on the corporate world.)

We make all of Santa’s important public relations decisions right here in this office. When it was discovered that smoking was bad for you and the world was trying to quit smoking, I got the jolly guy to stop smoking his pipe. (Not a very jolly year I’ll tell you.) Actually I felt sorry for the guy. When things got a little tense he could always go outside and get away for a few minutes with the excuse, “I gotta smoke.” Now he has to, “Check on a sick reindeer.” Let that be our secret.

I book him for all of his appearances all over the world. There are a few places here and there that will see him outside of the busy season but by and large, it’s the advent season that everyone wants to see him. Four weeks, 5 million appearances. Not easy. But I do it.

Nothing is left to chance. The reason we still have our same uniform is that we are constantly remaking the Santa’s to keep up with the ever-changing public opinion of what is acceptable. We went from all natural fibers and furs to polyester (a disaster in my book but then again I didn’t have to wear it) back to all natural fibers until fur became unforgivable to be seen in. Now there are new fibers out that are breathable and take moisture away but “locks heat in” that doesn’t involve the killing of just about anything. But I am sure at some point these too will be unacceptable. Of course, we will always have the polyester suit to fall back on should anything happen. That suit, I believe, may be ugly, but will be around until the end of the world.

There are two significant things on the board right now. One is the big guy’s weight. “We do not want to be promoting an unhealthy lifestyle in this health crazed conscience age,” I told him as I poked my finger into his “bowl full of jelly.” I suggested he eat the carrots kids leave for the reindeer and leave the cookies alone. I got him a treadmill for his Christmas present. We’ll see how that goes. Of course this means redesigning his uniform again.

To be continued . . .