Weepy Claus

A New Holiday Classic

I moved to Chicago in the fall of 95 and got my first job there thanks to my college friend, Jessica Boevers.  Her mom started Apple Tree Theater in Highland Park and cast me as one of the male ensemble members in one of my favorite musicals, THE SECRET GARDEN.

One freezing weekend, during the dinner break between the matinee and the evening show, we gathered together in the green room and listened to David Sedaris’s Santaland Diaries episode of This American Life, about his time working as an elf at in Macy’s flagship store on 34th street.  I laughed so hard I cried and listening to that episode became one of my annual traditions.

Cut to October, 2004.  I’m living in Brooklyn and, again, desperate for a day job.  I spot an ad in Backstage, open interviews for elves at Macy’s Santaland. I figured if it inspired David Sedaris to write his book then maybe there was a story waiting for me too.  And besides, I loved Christmas.  At that point it was still my favorite holiday.  I also love kids.  It sounded like so much fun.

Midway through the interview one of the managers pulled me into a side room and said, “We know you came here to be an elf but we think there’s another position you might be a great fit for.  How would you feel about wearing the red suit?” He was offering me the chance to be Santa Claus.

I said, “Yes,” immediately.

The training was intense.  To the best of my recollection it was eight hours a day for five days, but it may have been more like eight days.  Part of it was a sort of benevolent brainwashing, getting you to buy into what makes a visit to Macy’s Herald Square a magical holiday tradition for millions of people over the decades. They didn’t have to wash my brain all that hard, I fell in love with it right away. There was so much loving attention to detail in crafting the ideal experience for every kid who came to see Santa.

For example, we were taught not to bellow “Ho, ho, ho,” at everybody that walked through the door. “What? But that’s what Santa is known for!” Right, but imagine you’re a little kid and you’re already nervous, now this giant man with a great beard and big booming voice is yelling “Ho ho ho” at you from his throne. It’s just much. Instead, you learn to cultivate more of a gentle chuckling “ho Ho Ho.”

You don’t ask kids their name or age or where they go to school. You’re Santa Claus, you’re supposed to know these things. Instead, you greet them as if they’re an old friend you haven’t seen in a while. “There you are. I had a feeling you were going to stop by today.” You compliment them on their Christmas dress or sweater. You treat them as if they’re the most special person in the world. And in return, 90% of them shower you with unconditional love and look up at you in wonder and awe.

You do ask them what they want you to bring them for Christmas. You react as if it’s the most exciting, interesting toy in the world. “That’s an excellent idea. I’ll do my very best.” You can’t promise anything. You never know which family will be able to afford the newest gaming console or electric scooter. Sometimes the parents help you out. “He’s been such a great kid this year, Santa. We think this is a great idea too.”

A typical visit only lasts a couple of minutes. The family comes in, you get the kid or kids on your knee, you take some pictures, you get down to the business of asking them what they want for Christmas, then you give them a small gift and they’re off. The magic trick is that if you do it right it feels a lot longer. Nobody is rushed, everybody is satisfied.

Some visits are anything but typical. Part of the job is learning to adapt and react in a way that maintains the magic. I learned this during our final dress rehearsal, when the new Santas got a chance to experience simulated visits with veteran elves and other staff would play the guests. I had a young couple who came in, sat on my knee, and a perfect picture. I asked the girl what she wanted and she said something like a bag or jewelry, I can’t remember exactly. Because when I asked the guy what he wanted, he pulled out a ring, got down on one knee and said, “What I want is for her to marry me.”

I was bursting with joy. I’d heard about these proposal visits, they sounded so exciting.  And here I was, right in the middle of one. But then it took a really bad turn. Stunned, the girl said, “…no.  We talked about this. Why would you do this?” Then she stormed out, leaving him on his knee, looking to me for support.” I was totally shell shocked. It never occurred to me that a proposal visit could go south like this! I did the only thing I could think to do. I said, “I’m so sorry… but here’s a puzzle.”

Over the five years I spent in Santaland I had a number of proposals and luckily they were all magical, but I’m glad the simulation prepared me for the worst.

One of the other things they prepare you for is the fact that some kids will ask for the impossible. Santa is a guy who can make wishes come true. It was not uncommon for a kid to answer the question of what they wanted for Christmas with, “I want my dad to come back from Afghanistan,” or, “I wish my mom was still alive.”

The lovely man who ran Santaland back then told us that the best thing to do in these moments is to be genuine and lead with your humanity. I would say, “I know that must be very hard for you. But I know something else. I know your mom (or dad) loves you very much, and wherever they are right now, I know they would want you to have a wonderful Christmas. And I also want you to know that Santa loves you very much and he’s going to do everything he can to make that happen.”

On my first evening in the chair I had a woman in her thirties come in to sit on my knee and take a picture. When I asked what she wanted for Christmas she said, “I’ve been waking around the city and decided to come see you. All of my friends and family members have significant others and they are all getting married and starting families and I just want to find that person for myself.” I said, “You are a wonderful person. You have such a beautiful spirit. I have no doubt that person is out there. I’m sending you all the Christmas magic and good wishes that you find them.  And when you do, I hope you’ll come back here and tell me all about it.”

Those kinds of visits happened a lot.

One of my most favorite things about the job was meeting all of the other men who were putting on the red suit. The job attracted people from all walks of life and, despite a few exceptions, the common denominator was that most of them had that BSE. Big Santa Energy. They were, for the most part, a jolly, warm hearted bunch. Over the course of the season you develop an easy camaraderie and bond over the joys and difficulties of the experience.

But they’re not above busting your snowballs.

I had a habit of letting the tears flow as I told them stories about my heartbreaking visits, which garnered me the nickname, “Weepy Claus.” There were a lot of jokes about me disturbing the families by breaking down into tears in the house (never happened, at least not that anyone could tell).

We were also not above playing practical jokes on each other.

One day I was on duty when a manager came in to tell me that in a few minutes I would be visiting with two wounded refugee children from Sudan. I thought I was being pranked, so I told him to tell Brian and Bob that it was a nice try, but Weepy Claus isn’t falling for it.

Reader, it was not a prank. Yes, it was a lovely visit and yes, I cried talking about it.

Probably my all time favorite memory was when a little girl marched up to me immediately and said, “Tell me my real name.” I said, “Is this a test to see if I’m the real Santa?” She nodded, and I said, “Excellent. Come up here, let’s take a picture and talk about gifts and then we’ll talk about your name.”

As I’m having my visit I notice the elf whispering to the parents. I hear her Christmas wish and I say, “I know you wanted to test me to see if I’m the real Santa. But the real question isn’t whether or not I can tell you your own name, it’s what you believe. Do you think I’m the real Santa?” She nodded yes and smiled. I said, “That’s what’s most important.” I gave her a present and helped her off my knee.

As she was getting down the elf whispered her name in my ear. Just as she got to the door I said, “Merry Christmas, Isabella Garcia!” She spun around, wide eyed and stared at me in disbelief. Then she ran after her parents and I heard her yell, “He IS the real Santa Claus!”

On Christmas Eve they start taking people out of Santaland as the last visitors are going through the maze. The elves start singing Christmas carols to celebrate. I was lucky to be one of the last people out of Santaland that night and when I left the house the sound of joyful singing echoed through the whole floor.

When I stepped outside to catch my train back to Brooklyn the snow was falling. Julie was working in Wisconsin and it was too late to drive back to my family in Ohio, which meant I was spending the night alone in my apartment. I got off the train early to walk home in the snow and stopped at a bar that was serving bowls of roasted chestnuts for appetizers. Even though I was by myself, the magic of that experience in Santaland carried me through the rest of the season. That Christmas is still one of my favorites.

One of the best things to come out of those days is my friendship with a guy named Brian DePetris. One day we were walking around the city and he pitched me a Christmas movie he was working on called THE WINTER KING. I immediately got it and wanted to help him write it. Over the next couple of years we wrote this epic animated story about the secret origins of Christmas, a kind of cross between SHREK and LORD OF THE RINGS.

In 2015 we were lucky to be chosen to record it as part of the Black List Table Reads podcast, with a dream cast that included people like Haley Joel Osment, Jason Ritter, Mae Whitman, and Kristen Johnson. It was a blast and I thought I’d share the link here in case you want to listen with your kids on a drive. You have to scroll down to find it…THE WINTER KING

It’s been a rough couple of years. We need all the peace on Earth and good will to men we can get right now. In case you didn’t know already, Santa loves you.

Merry Christmas to those who are celebrating, happy holidays to all!

(Santa with his friend Gina!)