Larval-state Mikey “the Vance” Walk encountering “you know who” ca. 1970-71
There is something mortifying about being sat in close proximity to a large old mysterious stranger who is dressed like a hairy clown and smells like a mixture of Brylcreem and Hai Karate. It was "stranger danger" and easily triggered my fight or flight mechanism.
See, early on I made it clear that I HATED/DETESTED clowns. Santa is a glorified clown people. Let's be real. Only this "clown" supposedly had magical powers. He was absolutely terrifying.
My Mom labored under the impression that I LOVED Santa. So she would routinely try to force me to sit on his lap (shudder). [Incidentally, to this day, Santa is the only man's lap I have ever knowingly sat on.]
Here is me and mom at the mall.
Mom: Let's go see Santa.
Mikey: No Mom. I don't want to. No. No! Please! I don't wanna go! Please, no.
Mom: Well, how is he going to know what you want if you don't tell him?
[Mike thinking to himself] Since I am so scared of him... I aint getting nuttin for Christmas.
Mom: Come on. Let's go see him. It will be fun.
Mikey: No Mom, pleeaase? I will write him a letter. <-------- span="" style="font-style: italic;">It was the most brilliant intellectual counter punch a kid could come up with!
Mom: Okay. (spoken with a tone that said... well if that's the chance you want to take...)
[Mom thinking to herself] Great, I've created a little wimp.
This scenario played out in my life at one point or another approximately every year for the nine year period between 1970 and 1979. By the time I was older Mom still tried the Santa gag, but by then I was hip to the routine.
I remember eventually pondering the fact that there was a Santa at every mall, and they all look a little different. They can't ALL be him. That’s when I started to piece it together... SCAM.
You know those cutesy kids with Santa pictures? I have included one of me. Just one.
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