Santa Clause Is Coming To (A Postmodern) Town

For as long as I can remember Santa Claus has been the patriarch of the holiday that was originated for an immaculate birth (a scary thought to many of us).  He was oft described in books and lore as a “jolly old elf”, a rather pudgy figure who could barely fit into a furry red suit that had the look of the pajamas that we all hated to put on.  In many of the movies, cartoons or even advertisements, Santa somewhat resembled the snowman that you built after a snowstorm.  With rosy cheeks and snow-white hair, the jolly fellow had a grandparent look to him, or in some cases, your uncle Joe who was half in the bag by Christmas Eve.  Never-the-less, he had an inviting look that gave warmth to the hopes and dreams of children all over the world.

Flash forward to today and a whole new image has been created.  Now, for the last 30 years, Santa seems to have gotten bigger and bigger in stature as he was becoming more human.  But a commercial that was released this year shows Santa in a completely different light. This year’s Santa Claus is about 6’ 4” and very buff with the touch of gray look that now adorns most middle-aged males on commercials.  His stature is more lumberjack/wrestler than Santa.  In this latest commercial, Santa is finishing up his annual globetrotting deliveries and returns to his post-modern home in the burbs, he climbs out of the sleigh with the look of someone who’s just come from the 24-hour gym.  Sporting all of the male machismo of one of the fight club or wrestling parodies that violent sports fans seem to crave, Santa unlocks the front door (wouldn’t have to do that if he were still living at the north pole).  His stature no longer resembles the fat elf of old but rather the macho model of what middle-aged men in cosmopolitan America should look like today.

As Santa unlocks the door at his suburban digs it becomes quickly apparent that he no longer lives in the little cottage nestled in the snowbanks of the North Pole.  Instead, Santa now lives in an upbeat, 2 story, postmodern home with 8-foot windows and modern steel furniture.  Evidently, on his way home Santa had stopped at one of the more popular jewelry stores and had purchased Mrs. Clause the latest trendy diamond necklace.  That’s where the commercial lost me because as I remember it Santa delivered all of his goodies on Christmas Eve and finished on Christmas morning and as desperate as retailers are to make sales today I’m not aware of any jewelry stores that are open at dawn on Christmas morning.

As Santa slowly walks his up his postmodern stairs to the new age loft that now serves as his bedroom, he finds Mrs. Clause fast asleep. Santa sets the jewelry gift on the pillow that Mrs. Clause is fast asleep on. As we zoom in on the Mrs., we discover that she has beautifully coiffed grey hair and looks as if in previous years she might have adorned the cover of a fashion magazine.  She looked to be very fit, probably goes to the same health club as Santa and certainly not the pudgy roly-poly Mrs. clause that we all once knew and loved.   Laying in a modern bed of the finest Egyptian cotton sheets and bedspread, a completely different image than the one I always had of her lying on an old slay bed covered by a blanket painstakingly sewed by Tante Kringle.  Mrs. Kringle has the perfect complexion that only money and the latest cosmetics can afford her.  Somehow these images don’t fit the look of two people who supposedly live in the rugged far north where the closest thing to cosmetics is piles of reindeer excrement.

If that commercial isn’t bad enough then there is the one where a Gen-Ex couple is exchanging gifts inside their post-modern, ginormous house (also with large modern windows).  After the wife presents her small gift offering, the husband leads her outside for the presentation of his gifts.   His gifts are two $40 thousand dollar SUV/Truck vehicles with bows on them.  Golly, what great gifts!  Let me ask a question here—who in the fuck are they advertising to?  Certainly no one in my neighborhood.  I don’t know of anyone who just runs out and impulse buys two automotive vehicles, then has them parked in the driveway on Christmas morning.

Now to be fair, I did once get a 1967 mercury cougar for my birthday (valued around $800) that was held together with bungee cords (literally) and it was presented to me in the driveway.  But that is where the similarity ends.  I guess my point in all of this is that Christmas has been so denigrated with a constant need for retail sales success that there is no sentiment left to the once heart-warming holiday.  It was a time of year where everyone seemed a little more tolerant of each other and there was good cheer.  But that has all melted away in a sea of technocratic Gen Xers and Millennials who have to have the latest cell phone or self-driving car.

Gone are the dreams of that magical night of a sleigh guided by a glowing red light and the jolly old elf coming down your chimney (or flue pipe).  Instead, what we have are vehicles being delivered to the homes of the upper 9% of wealth earners who have never done a hard day’s work in their lives but can afford the latest high-tech bull shit.  With all of their shopping accomplished on cell phones or other handheld devices leaving more time for clubbing or rave-partying.  Forget about the fact that there are few small shops left offering hand grafted gifts with at least a little sentiment to them.  They have all been replaced by warehouse stores that have all the warmth of a weapons arsenal.

Yes, the spirit of Christmas has finally been destroyed by the gluttonous fantasies of the upper wealth, accommodated by the greedy corporate purveyors of a new millennial niche.  This all leaves me pining for the days of gifts that were heartfelt and not of status or social standing.  I guess this is what we are left with after years of corporate rule, a Christmas that has become monetized and mechanized.  As always, this just my opinion.

Talk to Ya Later

The Grumpy Old Fart Customer @2019 All Rights Reserved