Give me back my Klackers

In the spring of 1968 i fell in love. Not with a girl or a dog but
with a toy. The KLACKER to be precise. What is a klacker you ask, well
let me tell you, it was a magnificent piece of weaponry, 2 acrylic
balls attached to a sturdy workman like piece of string that when
banged together could drive a parent crazy, and i had to just have one.
A light blue transparent one at that.
Some scrawny kid like me
could own one of these, jump over a 6 foot high fence and smoke the
local bully. Yeah, that was going to be me. Jack, the neighborhood
tough guy wouldn’t get the best of me anymore. That psychopathic
grin would get wiped off his face really quick and than i would dance
over his fallen body like David over Goliath, oh yeah, that 11 year old
130 lb walking jelly bowl was going down. Or so i thought. As i
gathered my nerve and as my friends waited timidly around the corner i
approached the lug and started to stare him down, he didn’t
flinch, i approached a little bit more slinging my klackers like like a
gunslinger in the old west and then it happened, he pulled a giant
slingshot out of his overalls and started to fire spitballs at me. One
by one they stung me and drove me back to cover behind the closest
garbage pail and there i waited for the cavalry to arrive but realized
that the Cavalry had run for cover as well and vanished into the school
and the safety of the Nuns leaving me alone to face Jack one on one. It
seemed like i was there for over an hour[probably just about a minute]
when i got my courage up, got the klackers swinging good and rose,ready
to face my final moments, i came flying out from behind that garbage
can and ran smack into the body of Sister Aloysius, all 6 feet and 150
lbs of her. I went down like a rock ,my klackers flying out of my hands
and landing at her feet, her evil grin even made the bully Jack cringe,
and she had me at her mercy, and Jack was standing behind her grinning
that psychopathic grin of his. I was doomed.
I wound up with a
detention and had my Klackers taken away for 3 days, a punishment that
seemed worse than death, and while i eventually got over that moment,
the tension between Jack and i never cleared up but we stayed away from
each other from then on. For me A moral victory and 3 day’s later
i got my klackers back. All was well again.
And i wonder, did
anybody ever get Jack? Did they get away or did Jack get revenge? And i
wonder where Jack went? Is he living now on a chain gang in Alabama
somewhere breaking rocks with his fists and dancing with a good ole boy
named Bubba? One can only dream.

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Black Day in July:The Banning of Gordon Lightfoot

Since the dawn of the 20th Century music has become a symbol of protest and has in some cases gotten an artist or two a banishment from the airwaves due to the sensitive nature of a song or their political views.  Garth brooks was once banned from Country Music TV because of his song “The Thunder Rolls”,Back in 1967, the Beatles were banned from British radio not once, but twice! Both “Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds” and “A Day in the Life” from their  ’Sgt. Pepper’s’ album were forbidden airplay, as they were thought to encourage drug use. Both Billie Holiday and Cole Porter were banned by ABC Radio Stations during the early 50′s, Tom Petty, the Sex Pistols and Frankie goes to Hollywood are just some artists that have had some form of Censorship against them.

But Gordon Lightfoot? What could he have possible done to have been banned from radio?. On April 4th 1968 his song”Black Day in July” was banned from airplay by most major radio stations in the United States. The song itself is about the race riots in Detroit in 1967 and was deemed as too controversial for public consumption.

http://archives.cbc.ca/on_this_day/04/13/

At the above link you can find out what Gordon thought about it, but as for the song itself it portrayed the riots in a way that allowed the regular listener to understand. The result was 43 dead, 467 injured, over 7,200 arrests, and more than 2,000 buildings destroyed and Lightfoot made sure that the record made those facts clear,                                                                                                                    ”Inthe office of the President
The deed is done the troops are sent
There’s really not much choice you see
It looks to us like anarchy
And then the tanks go rolling in
To patch things up as best they can
There is no time to hesitate
The speech is made the dues can wait

Black day in July
Black day in July
The streets of Motor City now are quiet and serene
But the shapes of gutted buildings
Strike terror to the heart
And you say how did it happen
And you say how did it start
Why can’t we all be brothers
Why can’t we live in peace
But the hands of the have-nots
Keep falling out of reach”

Tough lyrics and but realistic and as such was the reason for his banning from the airwaves, in 1973 David Bowie would release a song called “Panic in Detroit” but by then the aftermath of the riots had been studied and talked about by scholars everywhere and Bowie’s song did not touch a nerve like Canada’s own Gordon Lightfoot.

Jack and the Chestnut Incident

In 1968 Hespeler was a small quaint little town with its own personality and we all existed peacefully together and there was always an air of calmness over our little piece of heaven, however in October of that year everything changed for me because that is when a stranger entered our lives and The Chestnut Incident happened.

Let me start at the beginning( makes sense don’t it?), as an 11-year-old lad one of my interests was the game of Kingers, a game that involved Horse Chestnuts and was played by almost all young boys and girls and dated back to the 1800′s and since Hespeler had many chestnut trees almost all of us played at one time or another and I was no different, and in my yard were two of the most magnificent chestnut trees in Hespeler and I used them to my full advantage. I always had a good sack of nuts ready to go in the fall and spent many hours baking , polishing and varnishing my nuts till they shone like the hub caps on my Dad’s prized Pontiac. I always made sure that the hole in the center was just the right size so it would not interfere with the molecular structure of my nuts.  And I had some good nuts indeed, I actually had one nut that became a 12 kinger, for those unsure, that means it won 12 times before being beaten. Most of us never lost more than a few nuts to each other and that is the way we enjoyed it until the new kid showed up with his hulking sack of nuts. None of us were sure where Jack came from but one day like hair showing up in the oddest places he appeared and wanted into our floating Chestnut games and even bragged about how his nuts could take down any old Hespeler boys nuts with just one swing, and the challenge was on. I am not sure who challenged him first but the battle did not take long and jack had his first victim and another piles of nuts to add to his collection, and this went on for over an hour until it was my turn. I reached into my sack and pulled out the biggest and shiniest nut in my bag and stared at Jack like we were mortal enemy’s and when the dust settled my chestnut lay beaten and battered as Jack did his grinning victory dance over my sack. As we all sat stunned, not believing that this had happened, Jack took his winnings, filled his bag with all the best nuts from Hespeler and slowly started to walk away, back to wherever he had come from and we all agreed never again to talk about the Chestnut Incident of 1968 and the mysterious kid named Jack.

The Voice that helped with my Homework

In the early 70′s radio personality’s were all over the place, be it  At CFTR  with Diamond Jim brady or Tom Rivers. Dave Smith at CKOC , Jungle Jay nelson or Roger Ashby at CHUM the voices were almost as big as the songs but for me their was one voice and show that stood out from the others.  And that was Carl Banas of CKFM in Toronto.  His show was heard in the 8pm till midnight slot  Monday thru Friday and many a night I did my homework while listening to his dulcet tones and his well written and wonderfully presented vignettes.  His show was different than the rest, yes he played music but not the rock and roll that other stations played, he would play something different and new, music that was not on the top 40 yet, i first heard Supertramp on his show, he played James Taylor and Harry Chapin. He played the songs from albums that were not heard on Chum-am and made each night an adventure. He would tell story’s that would enthrall us and make us use our mind not just sit there chilling out. He could make the weather report sound like a Dickens short story and the road reports almost sound pleasing. He incorporated a little jazz into his background and just made the long winters nights and math homework that much more pleasing. I don’t know maybe you just had to be there.

The Cold Saturday Mornings

Kirk Maltby,Tim Brent, remembering Paul Woods,Kenny Ellacott and Red Laurence, the Hockey heroes of Hespeler. When we are young we are all the future of the NHL or so we thought.

But at twelve years old we don’t know any better and on those Saturday winter mornings in 1969 I like every other lad in Hespeler had a date with destiny.  Rolling out of bed at 6 am and planting my butt on the over sized heating grates in the floor I drank my hot chocolate and slowly got my equipment on, pulling the “Dolson Construction” sweater over my head and getting ready for my Dad to finish his coffee and drive me to the Arena for 7.

On to the ice we poured, Frank Mahovlich’s, all of us, oh those were the better times, our Fathers sitting in the stands drinking their coffee’s spiked with whatever somebody had left over from the night before.  We played the game with no worry’s, there was no screaming at the coaches to “play my kid more”, no yelling at the referees by our parents( in all likelihood the refs were out drinking at the Queens Hotel with our Dad’s) We just played for fun and for each other. There was no fancy Tim Hortons commercial for us in the future, we played and then went home and played some more, just this time on the streets. Somehow memories of those Cold Winter Mornings just cheer me up, because while i wasn’t a great hockey player, to have just been a part of those moments is what is special.  And no matter how hard they try, the new arena in town just doesn’t have the same feel and attitude to me, no ghosts of former Shamrocks or Hespeler MicMacs wandering the halls, no steel mesh around the rink, and no smell of french fry’s will ever beat the old Arena. Call it what you will, I call it Unforgettable.

Hair:The Article

Hair, flow it, show it
Long as God can grow
My hair, flow it, show it

Long as God can grow
My hair, flow it, show it
Long as God can grow
My hair
Hair, we all have it,some of us keep it, and some of us don’t. It winds up growing in places we would never think of, and places we don’t want it. As a child I was threatened with the “hair on the palms” thing if I did something bad, last I checked they were okay, a little calloused maybe but no hair. Play’s have been written about and songs sung about it. Hair products in North America are a Billion Dollar business with everything from gel to Shampoo. Hairspray is often mentioned as one of the major causes of Global Warming. Brushes, Combs and curling Irons are a steady seller to this day. There are perms and weaves, the brush cut(I had one until I was 11), and Afros. Woman can spend 1-2 hours just getting their hair right when going out for a night, and brylcreem was a staple in my house when I was growing up, not for me but for my bigger brother. In High School one year I asked for a Hairdryer for my Birthday and my parents got me one with so many attachments I started calling it my Swiss Army Hairdryer.
Hair has always been an important part of our appearance, I had an Aunt that used to hate me because first thing in the Morning I would wake up with an Afro, while she struggled to get her hair even halfway close to mine. But things change with our hair, at least for guy’s it does.
The Hair on many of our heads is now being distributed to our backs, and our ears and some weird spots in between. I have gone from not seeing a Barber for 1-2 years to making sure I get mine cut at least once a month, the only thing that bugs me about that is then I paid 3-4 Dollars for a cut and now I pay $14 to get less cut and more often. I hated wearing hats as young man because it covered my gorgeous hair, now, I barely go out in the winter without my head covered, not because I am embarrassed but because my head gets colder easily.
Of course at least I have hair, most of my friends are bald, poor bastards.

Fireman vs Police

This is from around 1969[ I'm not sure of the date, but it is in that area] it was a benefit hockey game pitting the Hespeler Fireman against the Hespeler Police. The fireman won 5-3 and I remember having a great time at it. In the picture is Jack Stark,Jack Westbrook and Jim Hillis[my dad]. During the game Police chief Fred Stewart was assessed a number of penalties including 2 minutes for speeding and 2 min for leaving the scene of an accident after two members of the fireman collided and fell down. My Dad had to use a goalie stick that was 3 times bigger than a normal one to hide what chief Stewart called the sure target caused by my Dad’s awkward goalie stance,some called it bowlegged. The police were forced to use wooden pucks on penalty shots to make handling easier. I have no idea how much money was raised but everyone had a good time.

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So Long Bannatyne

As many of you may know I am a Music fan, any type of music as long as it is good and as such I notice when the famous and not so famous in the world of music pass away. And in 2011 the world lost many influential artists and others involved with the scene, Dobie Gray drifted away,Amy Winehouse lost her battle with her demons,Phoebe Snow’s Poetry Man still echos in my mind and Andrew Gold is no longer the Lonely Boy. One of the great Guitarist’s Garry Moore of Thin Lizzy fame played his last solo, while Gerry Rafferty left Baker Street for the last time. The big man Clarence Clemons left us as well but his Saxophone rifts with Springsteen will always be with us and Gil-Scott Heron’s Revolution will indeed not be televised, and without Don Kirshenerthere never would have been MTV and Much Music as his Rock Concert television series in the early 70′s was a forefather to it all, but perhaps the one figure that left us in 2011 that was the most influential to us here in Canada is a name that many may not know and that is the Great Jack Richardson.

Jack Richardson was a record producer extraordinaire and without him we may have never heard of the Guess Who,or the Five Man Electrical band. The list of Artists that he worked with and the albums produced would make a top 100 list of many music fans. Among his credits are:

• The Guess Who - Wheatfield Soul, Canned Wheat, American Woman
• The Irish Rovers - Wasn’t That A Party, Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer
• Bob Seger - Night Moves
• Alice Cooper - Love It to Death (co-producer with Bob Ezrin), Muscle of Love (co-producer with Jack Douglas)
• Kim Mitchell - Kim Mitchell (co-producer with Mitchell)
• Max Webster - Universal Juveniles
• Moxy - Moxy II
• Poco - A Good Feelin’ to Know & Crazy Eyes
• Badfinger - Say No More

The Producer of the year award at the Juno’s since 2002 is named after him, and he was named to the Order Of Canada in 2003. Without him our musical landscape would not be as great as it is.  He Died on may 13th 2011.

Some others who left us included: Mel McDaniel of “Baby’s got her Blue Jeans on” fame. Ted Kowalski of the Canadian 50′s era band The diamonds( Little Darlin and the stroll), Rick Coonce from the Grass Roots and Nickolas Ashford who wrote Ain’t no Mountain High Enough and Ain’t nothing like the real Thing with his wife Valerie Simpson.   They all made there mark and will be missed.

Mom and My Grandkids

Merry Christmas Everyone

Personalize a greeting

Icicles Explained

Bad Christmas Cards. #1

The Bestest Christmas ever(up to that point)

It was Christmas day 1968 and as dawn broke over Hespeler my younger Sister and I were wide awake just waiting for the signal from our parents that would tell us to come downstairs and see what goodies awaited us.  As usual the stocking’s were hanging on the bottom bed post’s and we were comparing what was in them, the usual little things as well as the candy, fruit and nuts that was always in them, but our attention was more on what was waiting for us down stairs. And when my Mother yelled to come on down it was  race to see who could get down first as we pushed and shoved and yet somehow made it down without killing ourselves. And the sight of the tree and all the presents was enough to bring a tear to my eye’s{ but i couldn’t let anyone see that}.

As was the family custom we had breakfast first and as always our older sibling’s made jokes about Santa missing our house or that the Bacon was really Reindeer meat but after a few years we had learned to ignore them and wolfed down our breakfast in anticipation of the upcoming ritual of destroying the nicely wrapped presents.

Finally the moment arrived, my Dad had his coffee ready and we settled down to  what would only take 20 minutes, but would bring memory’s that would last a lifetime. Now what made this the best Christmas ever(up to that point)?  I will tell you. It wasn’t the Barrel of Monkeys or the rockem Sock em robots, it wasn’t the Ant Farm or the hottest toy of the year the newly introduced Hot wheels, it wasn’t the silly Putty or the wicked Slinky that would drive my Dad nuts for a good week after Christmas, it wasn’t the Super Ball or the Green Ghost Board game, and it certainly wasn’t the underwear or socks, even though the long Johns would be greatly appreciated come the real bitter January and february that would follow.  No it was something else that set my heart  a flutter and almost made me pee my pants with happiness. It was the JOHNNY SEVEN ONE MAN ARMY GUN, oh yea, a gun that would help me win at the games of war that my friends and i would play. It had everything,  a Grenade Launcher,  a Rocket launcher, Armour piercing shells, the rifle could fire up to ten bullets at a time and it came with a detachable cap pistol and was over 3 feet long. It could do everything and would make me one of the more powerful forces on Cooper Street. I don’t think i stopped grinning all day long and as every Aunt and Uncle and Cousin came by the house i made sure that the Johnny Seven was prominently displayed.  It was pure Heaven and i made sure everyone knew it( i think a few of them wanted to use it on me) and i didn’t care, as i made sure i went outside as soon as i could and tried everything on that sucker.

That was truly a great Christmas and while there were many more to come  that one stands out not only because of the Johnny Seven but because that was also the Last Christmas that i believed in Santa Claus and i find it Ironic that one of my last innocent moments as a child involved receiving a Gun.

Politically Correct Santa

‘Twas the night before Christmas and Santa’s a wreck…
How to live in a world that’s politically correct?
His workers no longer would answer to “Elves”,
“Vertically Challenged” they were calling themselves.

And labor conditions at the north pole
Were alleged by the union to stifle the soul.
Four reindeer had vanished, without much propriety,
Released to the wilds by the Humane Society.

And equal employment had made it quite clear
That Santa had better not use just reindeer.
So Dancer and Donner, Comet and Cupid,
Were replaced with 4 pigs, and you know that looked stupid!

The runners had been removed from his sleigh;
The ruts were termed dangerous by the E.P.A.
And people had started to call for the cops
When they heard sled noises on their roof-tops.

Second-hand smoke from his pipe had his workers quite frightened.
His fur trimmed red suit was called “Unenlightened.”
And to show you the strangeness of life’s ebbs and flows,
Rudolf was suing over unauthorized use of his nose

And had gone on Geraldo, in front of the nation,
Demanding millions in over-due compensation.
So, half of the reindeer were gone; and his wife,
Who suddenly said she’d enough of this life,

Joined a self-help group, packed, and left in a whiz,
Demanding from now on her title was Ms.
And as for the gifts, why, he’d ne’er had a notion
That making a choice could cause so much commotion.

Nothing of leather, nothing of fur,
Which meant nothing for him. And nothing for her.
Nothing that might be construed to pollute.
Nothing to aim. Nothing to shoot.

Nothing that clamored or made lots of noise.
Nothing for just girls. Or just for the boys.
Nothing that claimed to be gender specific.
Nothing that’s warlike or non-pacific.

No candy or sweets…they were bad for the tooth.
Nothing that seemed to embellish a truth.
And fairy tales, while not yet forbidden,
Were like Ken and Barbie, better off hidden.

For they raised the hackles of those psychological
Who claimed the only good gift was one ecological.
No baseball, no football…someone could get hurt;
Besides, playing sports exposed kids to dirt.

Dolls were said to be sexist, and should be passe;
And Nintendo would rot your entire brain away.
So Santa just stood there, disheveled, perplexed;
He just could not figure out what to do next.

He tried to be merry, tried to be gay,
But you’ve got to be careful with that word today.
His sack was quite empty, limp to the ground;
Nothing fully acceptable was to be found.

Something special was needed, a gift that he might
Give to all without angering the left or the right.
A gift that would satisfy, with no indecision,
Each group of people, every religion;

Every ethnicity, every hue,
Everyone, everywhere…even you.
So here is that gift, it’s price beyond worth…
“May you and your loved ones enjoy peace on earth.”

Notice: This poem is copyright 1992 by Harvey Ehrlich. It is free to
distribute, without changes, as long as this notice remains intact.
All follow-ups, requests, comments, questions, distribution rights, etc
should be made to mduhan@husc.harvard.edu . Happy Holidays!

The Angel and the Christmas Tree

Gather around my little Hespelerites and I will tell you the story of why an Angel wound up being on top of the Christmas tree.

It was a week before Christmas and all was not right, you see the weather was warmer that usual at the North Pole on that night. The elves were way behind in their toys production and there were whispers that they were talking strike, Rudolph and the other reindeer had come down with a bad case of Hoof and Mouth disease and there was a danger that some of them would not be ready for Christmas Eve and Santa was busy trying to line up some emergency backup Reindeer but they just was not enough time to train them all. Mrs Claus was not in a great mood either and Santa was not getting his usual booty call from her and that was unsettling as well.  Because of Terrorism he had received a notice that he had to file a flight plan and that was frustrating him to no end as well. And to top it off The Maple leafs(his favourite team) was not playing well and he had lost a big bet to Frosty the Snowman and Santa hated to lose money. He went for a beer and of course someone had snuck in and taken his last couple and the nearest store was in Whitehorse and it would be closed by the time he got there and he stewed and he stewed about everything, but then there was a knock on the door, Santa yelled for someone to get it but no one would so he hauled his carcass of the couch and went to the door and there was a little Angel holding a Christmas Tree” Santa, I have the worlds most beautiful Christmas tree in my arms, and it is for you, where would you like me to put it”

AND THAT MY FRIENDS IS HOW IT CAME TO BE THAT WE PUT AN ANGEL ON TOP OF THE TREE.

Singer, Songwriter Dobie Gray Passes Away

Singer, songwriter and Nashvillian, Dobie Gray, famous for his 1973 hit song “Drift Away” passed away Tuesday.

Gray’s website confirmed his death late Tuesday evening.

Dobie Gray was born in Texas and after a successful career in California retreated to the peaceful hills of middle Tennessee. Gray was famous for many songs, from his first hit in 1965 ‘The In Crowd” to his most popular song “Drift Away”, he was a talented musician who earned the respect of many in his field.

Gray owned a studio in Nashville, Quadrafonic Studios, on 18th Avenue. It was here that he recorded three albums for MCA Records.

In 2003 Gray partnered with artist, Uncle Kracker, to sing an updated version of Gray’s hit “Drift Away”. The song stayed in the charts at # 1 for twenty-eight weeks.

Dobie Gray was 71 years old.

What I am Listening to This Season.

When it comes to Christmas Songs I like the  old chestnuts from Frank and Dean and Andy and as well I like the traditional Christmas songs as much as the next guy but anyone who has read my material knows I am slightly twisted and that extends to my musical tastes as well. And in that vein I give you my list of favorite Christmas songs:  don’t say I didn’t warn ya!

Little Saint Nick: The Beach Boy’s…A peppy little song from the surf kings just sounds right.

Bing Crosby/David Bowie: Little Drummer Boy…2 very different performers but somehow this song never seems to amaze me.

Roy Woods Wizzard:I wish it could be Christmas every day….An infectious song and for anyone who knows who Roy woods is this just makes sense. The video for it is worth the look.

Jethro Tull: Ring Out Solstice bells…Add a flute to a Christmas song and you wind up humming along.

Bob and Doug McKensie: 12 Days of Christmas…Admit it, this one makes everybody smile.

Ray Charles and Nina Simone: Baby it’s cold outside…A little jazz and 2 distinct voices makes you feel like curling up next to the fire.

Eartha Kitt: Santa Baby…Like the above song this one spells erotic Christmas,meow.

Kinks: Father Christmas…What would a Christmas season be without the Kinks Classic about a Santa Claus getting beat up?

Slade: Merry Christmas Everybody…With Lyrics like”Look To The Future Now It’s Only Just Begun’”. this songs is as uplifting a song as Father Christmas is downbeat. And Noddy Holder is still one of the strangest voices in music.

Plastic Ono Band: Happy Xmas(war is over)…So this is Christmas, only Lennon could write a protest song that has become a Christmas Classic.

Greg Lake: I believe in Father Christmas…This song criticizes the Commercialization of Christmas and talks about the loss of Innocence and Childhood beliefs.

The Pogues: Fairytale of NewYork…Not really a Christmas song per se, it has become a standard around my house this time of year. Bickering and fighting on Christmas Eve, it doesn’t sugar coat anything.

Chris Rea:Driving home for Christmas…Another of those songs that just seems to glide along and before you know it the song has ended and you are left humming it for the rest of the day.

Simon and Garfunkel:7 o’clock news/silent Night…Not as well-known as their other songs,7 o’clock news/silent night is from the 1966 album Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme, . The track consists of an overdubbing of two contrasting recordings: a simple arrangement of the Christmas carol “Silent Night”, and a simulated “7 O’Clock News” bulletin of the actual events of 3 August 1966. It is an Eerie song that stays with you long after it is over. It can be hard to listen to but worth it in the end.

Gaudet: Steeleye Span..The song itself comes from the 16th century and not only does the band perform it accapella they also sing it in Latin.

There are so many more, i have not even mentioned the music from Mannheim steamroller and The Trans-Siberian orchestra, two sets of music that really needs to be heard to be appreciated. So Merry Christmas and may all your music be great.

Twelve Songs of Christmas( I don’t want to hear)

I saw Daddy kissing Santa Claus

Frosty the hitman

I have an irregular heartbeat,pa rum papumm-pumm

It’s beginning to look a lot like Prison

On the first day of Christmas…i maxed out my credit card

Silent fart

Chet’s nuts roasting on an open fire

Santa Claus is scamming this town

Frosty my dopeman

I’ll be homeless for Christmas

Rudolph Hess the Red nosed Nazi

Walking around in woman’s underwear.

Images from the 32nd Annual Hespeler Santa Parade

It was a great day and I think Everybody had a good time. Here are some Pictures from Saturday.

Yes Virginia There is a Santa Clause

Editorial Page, New York Sun, 1897

We take pleasure in answering thus prominently the communication below, expressing at the same time our great gratification that its faithful author is numbered among the friends of The Sun:

Dear Editor,

I am 8 years old. Some of my little friends say there is no Santa Claus. Papa says, “If you see it in The Sun, it’s so.” Please tell me the truth, is there a Santa Claus?

Virginia O’Hanlon

Virginia, your little friends are wrong. They have been affected by the skepticism of a skeptical age. They do not believe except what they see. They think that nothing can be which is not comprehensible by their little minds. All minds, Virginia, whether they be men’s or children’s, are little. In this great universe of ours, man is a mere insect, an ant, in his intellect as compared with the boundless world about him, as measured by the intelligence capable of grasping the whole of truth and knowledge.

Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus. He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy. Alas! how dreary would be the world if there were no Santa Claus! It would be as dreary as if there were no Virginias. There would be no childlike faith then, no poetry, no romance to make tolerable this existence. We should have no enjoyment, except in sense and sight. The external light with which childhood fills the world would be extinguished.

Not believe in Santa Claus! You might as well not believe in fairies. You might get your papa to hire men to watch in all the chimneys on Christmas eve to catch Santa Claus, but even if you did not see Santa Claus coming down, what would that prove? Nobody sees Santa Claus, but that is no sign that there is no Santa Claus. The most real things in the world are those that neither children nor men can see. Did you ever see fairies dancing on the lawn? Of course not, but that’s no proof that they are not there. Nobody can conceive or imagine all the wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the world.

You tear apart the baby’s rattle and see what makes the noise inside, but there is a veil covering the unseen world which not the strongest man, nor even the united strength of all the strongest men that ever lived could tear apart. Only faith, poetry, love, romance, can push aside that curtain and view and picture the supernal beauty and glory beyond. Is it all real? Ah, Virginia, in all this world there is nothing else real and abiding.

No Santa Claus! Thank God! he lives and lives forever. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay 10 times 10,000 years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood.