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Letter from Santa

Here’s another post you can blame Cheryl for, at least in part. Every year we have a Secret Santa gift exchange at work, much like may of you (probably). For the last ten years (give or take a few) I’ve included some kind of letter with my gift. It’s been my schtick, my thing.

Cheryl thought I should post this year’s letter, in part because we didn’t send out Christmas cards this year (nor last year), but also because this year’s letter was a little different – a little irreverent. Any-hoo, here it is (sans proper layout and letterhead):

The Shop
1 Santa’s Way
North Pole, Antarctica 99999
Tel: 1 990 999-IMSANTA
Fax: 1 990 999-IM4XMAS

December 17, 2009

Dear —–,

Do you mind if I call you —–? Who am I kidding? I’m Santa. I could call you Mickey if I wanted to.

I shouldn’t have said that, I’m sorry. My temper has been short lately with all the changes going on at The Shop. I know you have your own problems to worry about, but ‘ole Santa doesn’t have many folks he can talk too… you know, let off a little steam. I’ve been watching you – but you knew that already. I watch everyone. You’re the sort I figure an old fart like me can confide in… that and I wanted to explain your gift this year. Please don’t tell Ms. Claus. She’s already mad at me over some damn fool thing that happened during the Lego shortage back in ’38.

You see —-, Santa’s tired. The damn elves got organized, started themselves a union, and the fit has really hit the shan, if you get my drift. I’ll let you in on a little secret. Donald Fehr – the former MLB Players Association director – he didn’t retire like you all think he did. He’s working for the elves now.

It doesn’t take a large animal veteranarian to figure out which list he’s on.

Apparently the elves weren’t happy with the ice problems at the old North Pole complex. You know, the thinning everyone’s been talking about. So Fehr gets involved and the next thing you know I’ve got a strike on my hands, right in the middle of build season – demanding a new shop location. Me and the Mrs scouted new locations, but we found almost nothing but trouble. Greenland, goaded on by the Danes, wanted too much in kickbacks, the taxes in Norway were insane, Canada couldn’t come to an agreement with the First Nations groups in their northern territories, and I wouldn’t trust that Putin fella any further than Blitzen could kick him.

So we started thinking out of the box and thought of just the place – a place with plenty of space and no governing body – the south pole. A little razzle-dazzle at the UN and a new settlement was established: North Pole, Antarctica. (I’ll be damned if I’m gonna give up my brand.)

But have you ever moved across the world? It ain’t no picnic.

Then there’s the economy. I had to lay off 20% of my staff. Even with the bad blood surrounding the strike and forced relocation of the shop, it killed me to let some of my elves go. Do you know what the job market is like for an unemployed elf?

Anyway, between the economy and the reduced staff we had to make some drastic changes – take some shortcuts – which explains your gift: a gift card. The production cost of those little, rectangular lifesavers is next to nothing.

So that’s it. I’m sorry I was so negative this year, but it’s been hard to get into the spirit of Christmas, even for Jolly Saint Nick. We’re all human (well, mostly).

I hope you like the card. Get something nice for you and the misses.

All the best to you and your’s this Christmas,
Saint Nicholas – Sinterklaas – Santa

P.S. Could you do me a favor? Quit picking on my boy’s beard. You know who I’m talking about. Don’t make me send Donner up there to set things straight. He’s got a mean streak in him you wouldn’t believe.

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