We all know the “December Dilemma.” Finding decorations, music, cards, and garments for Chanukah often requires special effort — whereas that other holiday is so ubiquitous, it’s overwhelming. Every street twinkles with colored lights. Every shop and restaurant is adorned with pine and holly, and carols ring from every radio station. Clerks and baristas might say “Happy Holidays,” but come on. We all know which holiday they mean.
Moreover, Jews who are in show business know what we’ve got to do to make a buck. We sing the carols, and even write them. We dress up as elves, ghosts, Whos, and even that goyishe icon himself: Santa Claus. This was my gig for two weekends at the Winter Market. Hey. Don’t judge. Nobody ever paid me $75/hour to spin a dreidel.
When I got to the parking garage, I was still in my street clothes and the security guard asked me what I was there for. Only monthly members were allowed into the garage while vendors had to park elsewhere.
“I’m Santa Claus,” I answered.
“You’re Santa Claus?” she replied. “Okay. I want me a bike, and some new shoes, and….”
“Well, have you been good this year?” I asked.
“Hmm… Not really… Definitely not. Ha ha ha,” she laughed at the memory of her own naughtiness.
Time to do some bargaining. “Come on, Girl. You know how this works. There is a clear presents-to-behavior ratio. Now, you can’t undo what you did, but letting me into this garage will put points in your favor.” And with that, she let me in.
Once I got suited up and seated, I tried to imbue Santa with the Jewish value of menshlichkeit, being a good person. I asked siblings if they usually play nicely together or fight and fuss at each other. It was the latter, of course, and some got a little defensive. But one 10-year-old girl gave a wry smile and answered, “It’s complicated.”
Ever the teacher, I ask them about school, what they are learning and how well they behave. One teenage girl confessed that she has difficulty staying focused, so I encouraged her to avail herself of her school’s resources. “There are people who can teach you strategies to help you focus. Keep in mind that your teachers really want you to succeed, but the drive to succeed has to come from you.” Her mom was beaming, clearly liking what I had to say. A little while later, that mom brought over another girl and said, “She could use one of your pep talks.” Not having it, the girl sighed and wouldn’t look at me. To her, I said, “I get it. Not everyone is cut out to be a scholar, but everyone has something to offer. You just have to find your thing and get trained to do it better.” It was a longer spiel than that, but you get the gist. She finally made eye contact with me and gave a little smile.
The strangest moment came from a teenage girl who put me on the spot. Holding her phone up to my face, she said, “My friend Joan wants this boy Max to be her boyfriend. Can you fulfill her wish?” I took a beat and replied, “No, I can’t. Max is a person, not a set of Legos. I can’t wrap him up and put him under your tree because he’s not mine to give.” After they left, I exchanged a look with my helper, Molly, who returned an awkward smile and shrugged.
My best Jewish Santa moment came when I noticed a little boy’s dad wearing a “Happy Chrismukkah” sweatshirt featuring a menorah strung with colored lights. I remarked, “I see that you also celebrate Chanukah,” and sang Mi Yimalel. At the irony of Santa singing in Hebrew, their jaws dropped, and they burst out laughing. “Santa really does love us all!” the mom exclaimed.
I’ll admit that when I took the gig, I did it for the money. Yet, as every actor knows, you bring a part of yourself to every role. Within that red suit dwelt a nefesh yehudi, a Jewish soul. If I used my platform to make a handful of people just a little more conscientious, better students and more patient siblings, then I did a mitzvah, a good deed. And there’s nothing more Jewish than that.
Happy Holidays!
Republished from San Diego Jewish World