Mads: The Santa Claus Canon

Our friend Trajan’s sojourn in Boston was almost over, and he was about to head back to his home in the White Mountains to prepare himself for the publicity tour that was coming for his new book, The Elvis Room. We decided to grab a bite to eat at the Count and Frieda’s Von Dieter’s.

“Man, you weren’t lying about this Von Fishwich! This is amazing!”

“I know, hence why I got two.”

“If you say ‘hence’ again Mads, I’ll kill you.”

We ate in silence for a few seconds, when we noticed the conversation at the neighboring table was getting heated. It was three young men, all seemingly of the “geeky persuasion,” if you conceive my meaning.

“Listen,” one of them said. “Everyone knows Santa Claus was a Christian saint who was imbued with super powers by the Celtic god Wodan. That’s how he came to be who he is today.”

“You’re all wrong,” another one said. “He vanquished Wodan, and in so doing, took his power and used it for good.”

“You’re both wrong,” the third one said. “I keep telling you, he descended from heaven in the Alps, where Ghosts of the Field cleared his way, and he was followed by a man with a goat’s head. You two keep forgetting the man with the goat’s head!”

Trajan leaned back over to me.

“I see what’s happening here: they’re debating the Santa Claus Canon.”

“What?”

“The history of his story. You know, like someone trying to connect Highlander 2: The Quickening with Highlander the Series, or a group of fundamentalist Christian preachers trying to lend themselves credibility by discussing the Bible so it seems like they deserve any money they get for doing pretty much nothing.”

“Ah, I see, since you put it that way. Yes, three fundamentalist Christian preachers discussing the Bible would be akin to three nerdy types debating the Santa Claus Canon.”

“Check this out:”

Trajan leaned over in the direction of their table.

“If I may fellas, Ernest Saves Christmas really covered this…”

“Ernest Saves Christmas!”

“That was an abomination!”

“How dare you!”

“You think this is funny?”

“He doesn’t, but I do,” I said.

I felt like this had gone on long enough. I dumped my Icee over the head of the first one, and gave the second one a wedgie. I turned to the third fella.

“You don’t want any of this. I suggest you leave and take your Santa party elsewhere.”

He nodded, and with his friends, they backed out of the restaurant.

“Did you really have to do that?”

“I think you know the answer to that question, Tra. Hello, garçon, can we get a mop over here to clean up the excess Icee?”