Real Santas are out there
Published 9:00 pm Saturday, December 13, 2003
In search of the hottest holiday gifts, I tried. I really did. Maybe you saw me playing catch with the HoverDisc kiosk guy in the middle of Alderwood Mall.
Want to wrap up that shopping in one proverbial swoop? For $17.99, if you take the product pitch at its word, the 3-foot inflatable disc "flies like a frisbee, floats like a blimp."
Everyone on my list needs that. Or they might by the time I run out of energy and ideas. Judging by my mood as I cruised the mall Wednesday, that is likely to happen sooner rather than later.
I went hunting for the 2003 version of Billy Bass the Singing Fish, the audacious trophy that flaps its tail and belts out "Take Me to the River." Not only did I fail to find Billy’s progeny, I felt my enthusiasm for the mission sink faster than a stone in a fishing hole.
Maybe I needed a nap or a latte or a bag of cash to fall from the mall rafters. Whatever I needed, I wasn’t finding it in anything I saw for sale.
People were lined up to ask about Ionic Breeze Quadra air purifiers at Sharper Image. These gizmos sell for hundreds of dollars. The promise is they’ll silently reduce airborne pollutants.
A clerk said what’s really selling at Sharper Image is a $59.95 Turbo-Groomer, just the thing for trimming nose hair. How festive.
I was more interested in the Talking Pictures photo frames. For $29.95, you press a button and record a 15-second message to go with 4-by-6-inch framed pictures. I doubt my technical wizardry is up to capturing my 5-year-old saying, "You are the best grandpa in the whole wide world." It’s tricky enough snapping the pictures.
Even a stop at the Build-A-Bear Workshop didn’t produce an aha moment meaning I’d found the gift of the season. They’re cute, these custom critters that have kids stopping at "Stuff Me," "Fluff Me" and "Dress Me" stations. But I don’t know. I couldn’t get into the shopping spirit.
So I went to see Santa.
Th Alderwood Mall’s Santa Claus won’t reveal any other name. He said he goes by Papa Noel and a string of similar aliases. When I asked, he whipped out photo ID that — you guessed it. He’s in character on the laminated card that shows his residence as the North Pole. Mall officials play along, refusing to further identify the affable gentleman.
Asked about children’s toys of choice, Santa didn’t hesitate.
"Always for girls, it’s Barbie," he said. "This year, it’s Swan Lake Barbie. Both girls and boys want Go Go My Walking Pup."
Hasbro’s Go Go wags, barks, whimpers, growls and comes when called. The $49.99 faux pooch could teach my dog a thing or two. But it couldn’t cure my mall malaise.
It took Santa to do that, or St. Nicholas or Father Christmas or whatever his name is.
The Alderwood Santa mentioned that "even little tiny ones ask for Xboxes" and other expensive video game systems.
When they do, he said, he’ll often see defeated looks on the faces of parents struggling to afford even modest presents for their children.
"I always tell the kids that we can only make so many of these things at the workshop, we can only manage to make a few," he said. "I always ask them for alternatives."
Invariably, he said, those alternatives are cheaper than the initial requests, to the relief of the eavesdropping parents.
My gift that day, my real find, was a Santa with a heart. He’s doing his job, talking to all those kids for all those hours. He’s doing his job and more than his job.
Dr. Seuss had it right. Christmas "doesn’t come from a store" — no maybe about it.
Does that mean I don’t shop? Heck no. I run around looking for perfect gifts like everybody else. If we didn’t all do it, there’d be parking spots at the malls today.
I’m not as crass as the Florida Wal-Mart mob that apparently trampled a woman in a rush for $29 DVD players. But I did recently snap up the last Peter Pan pirate ship they had at the Alderwood Disney Store. (Don’t worry, my boy isn’t reading yet and his brother and sister won’t tell.)
If you do have to go to a store — who doesn’t? — listen carefully. In the midst of all that retail, I didn’t find the season’s hottest gift. But I met a real Santa. Perhaps you, too, will find a little bit more.
Columnist Julie Muhlstein: 425-339-3460 or muhlsteinjulie@heraldnet.com.
