Santa isn't real

An honest conversation with my friend's kid.

Me: So, Nate, what the heck is on your Christmas list this year? A Hannah Montana sleeping bag, the new Hannah Montana/Miley Cyrus Light Up Designer Studio? The Hannah Montana Holiday Singing Doll or the Hannah "I'm frickin’ everywhere" Montana Pink Folding Vinyl Umbrella? Or perhaps, you’d like the new Jonas Brothers cd?

Nate: No way! All that is for girls!

Me: Well, your mom actually wanted a girl, so maybe you should put one of those items on your list. It would make her feel better about spending 72 hours in labor with you.

Nate: Labor?

Me: We’ll talk about the birds and the bees another time.

Nate: I want Santa to bring me the Eyeclops Night Vision Infrared Stealth Goggles and LEGO Star Wars Republic Gunship.

Me: Santa? There is no Santa.

Nate: Huh?

Me: The Santa Claus tradition is a secularized substitute for the real meaning of Christmas, don't you know? Which is causing more secularization and even more mass consumerism. Furthermore, the practice of the Santa Claus tradition is contrary to the Gospel. For Santa involves the willing suspension of disbelief, in which the hearers of the story know and understand the story to be merely a story, whereas in the practice of the modern-day Santa Claus tradition children are being led to believe the story is true, and thus are being intentionally deceived by a deliberate falsehood. That is, they are being lied to, which is wrong.

Nate: What does all that mean?

Me: I have no idea, I read it somewhere. Jesus killed Santa. That's all you need to know.

Nate: My parents have been lying to me?

Me: Your parents, your friends, your friends’ parents, television, the internet, all of them are liars. Just like with the Tooth Fairy and Easter Bunny. It’s not a coincidence Santa is Satan spelled backwards.

Nate: (tears) The Tooth Fairy and Easter Bunny aren't real either?

Me: Don’t cry, learning the truth about this is a milestone towards your adulthood. Just don’t tell your mom I told you. If you do, you won’t get anymore presents.

I've been busy

Ernest Shackleton (15"x15") and Charles Darwin (14"x30").

My Excellent Adventure: The Doctor's Office

As seen on Diary of Fools.

Fourscore and... 3 days ago… I, me, was brought forth upon a most excellent adventure conceived by appointment only. I am dedicated to a proposition which is true to my time, Be excellent to each other and… go to the doctor for regular check ups…

…I look around. Who designed this waiting room? There must be a Waiting Room Décor Magazine and they flipped to the post modern pharmaceutical-esc photo layout and said, “That looks like a nice place to wait.”

I grabbed a Highlights for Children magazine and immediately turned to the Ask Arizona advice column. In this episode, while making a parade float, Arizona and her karate friends learn about working together. “Fantastic!” I thought to myself.

Putting the funny looking gown on was the most challenging task I’ve done all week, despite how simple the instructions were. “It goes on like a jacket; the sheet goes on your lap.” Looking down at it, I’m sure this has been worn 100-200 times before me. Does just washing the gown get all the germs off from the other patients? What about super germs?

…I’m asked to pee in a cup. “That must be way easier for you since you stand to pee,” I tell the assistant. She didn’t think that was funny.

While waiting for the doctor to come in, I wonder if they are watching me on a hidden camera or through a one-way mirror. I would if I were them - just to see what shit I take. In case my suspicions are true, I wave and wink at the ceiling and mirror. They’re probably saying to themselves, “I’ve been caught!” or “this chick is a lunatic!” I’ll do that in public bathrooms as well. I’m sure I’ve been in a stall with a hidden camera at one point in my life. I’ll wave my middle finger in front of the air vent or even the toilet.

My blood pressure was a little on the high end but I explained to the assistant that I was at a doctors office, and “it’s not exactly nap time for me. It should be though, shit.” She left quickly. I neglected to tell her I was also high on acid.

I sit and wait. I know I have a good 15 to 20 minutes before the doctor comes in. I move seats a few times. I open and close drawers. I play with the green and red switches. I steal shit (2 bedpans, a urine cup, a stethoscope, and a pap smear kit). Score! Christmas gifts for everyone this year!

I wave at the mirror once more. I look horrible in pastel colors! And this florescent lighting makes me look like a ghost. I’m starting to look forward to the stir-ups and cold metal prongs!

There’s a knock on the door and before I could say come in, the doctor had come in. We go through the usual. She says something. I say something back. Then the examination begins. “This is going to feel a little cold,” she says. Cue awkwardness. To break the silence, I ask, “Whose idea was it to paint clouds on the light fixture? …They should add a rainbow… just to make it even more gay.” Cue more awkward silence... “Do you validate for parking?” She wrote me my prescription in Chinese and hurried out of the room.

I was a little annoyed that I was just over the free parking time limit. But the stethoscope could get me at least a hundred on eBay, so I got over it. The End.

Call Center #5

This should be the last in the series. I "quit" shortly after.