Goodbye, Santa

Santa Claus as we know him is a fairly modern invention. Cobbled together from old European stories and new American poems and advertising, Santa has become a mainstay in the minds of Westerners. You know the stories: St. Nicholas drops some money in the stocking, Sinterklaas gives gifts, Old Saint Nick drops down the chimney-

-and on and on. Modern Santa seems to have emerged with Clement Moore's poem, 'Twas The Night Before Christmas'. Published in 1823, it was a hit. You still read it, don't you? We all do. This new version was supernatural and jolly. He flew around on a sleigh led by reindeer. He fit his fat self down chimneys. He was special.

Then came this guy, Thomas Nast. He popularized Santa in an even bigger way. His version became definitive. Santa was becoming the focal point of Christmas, drowning out the Christian meaning and also the pagan one. Christmas was becoming all-American, inclusive of everyone.

All you had to do was rally around a fictional character and pretend he was real.

 Sure it was fun! An invisible man brings you presents the night before Christ's birth is celebrated. This story grew and grew, and with the help of Coca-Cola and tons of merchandising in the early 20th century, overtook the West as the dominant myth. Everyone under eight believes in St. Nick.

But, if he's fake, why do we tell our kids that he's real?

Face it. Our parents lied to us, their parents lied to them, and we lie to our kids. We perpetuate the myth, and then tell our kids he isn't real. Why? "It's tradition!" you say. Bah, it's still a lie.

I decided when I remarried not to tell my kids about Santa. And you know what? They're fine. They didn't miss out on anything. They still look forward to Christmas morning. We just decided that lying to our girls was a stupid idea.

They don't believe in The Easter Bunny or the Tooth Fairy either.

Bye-bye, Santa. It was nice knowing you.