Today is the day after Christmas, and I was shocked to find that Santa did not make it beyond most houses yesterday. As Dave and I walked around a rather nice neighborhood on Long Island, we saw an appalling number of dead Santa Clauses lying in one yard after another, their red clothes melted in a sad, forlorn heap and stakes attached to ropes tying the poor plastic corpses to the ground; Frosty was caught in the crossfire; his poor white body lay melted on the ground.
We must stand up! Take a stand! Stand for good! Stand up for Santa to help Santa stand up! Who else will bring our children their toys? Who else will try to fit down our impossibly small chimney and stovepipes? Who else will not be allowed to laugh in Australia because it sounds like he's insulting women? Santa Claus. Therefore, we must take care of him: for all of you who still have your Santas intact, protect them. You never know which of your neighbors is on an anti-Santa strike team. Watch out. Protect our beloved icon.
At any rate, Santa brought me lots a great presents this year: a hex bug, some chocolate, a gas card. Aunt Jan gave me a beautiful sweater, and Sandy gave me a picture of a nebula!!! and a cardigan. Dave gave me bananagrams! All in all a good day. I hope yours was, too.
Now, protect your Santa! Or Christmas will never live again.
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