Tag: illinois

The Perfect Santa

Cruising through Facebook on the last day of November, I ran across a woman’s plea to find a Santa. She did not want any old Santa, but a particular Santa, who, for at least three years, had captivated her daughters’ hearts. As far as that woman was concerned, she had found the perfect Santa. No one else would do.

Many of us want to believe in the “Jolly Old Elf” residing at the North Pole, even knowing that Santa is a myth. There are thousands, if not tens of thousands people out there willing to put on a red suit and a fake beard to keep the myth alive.

I quit believing in Santa when I was quite young. A combination of being growled at by one of a legion of imitation Clauses in the Men’s room of the Brookpark (Ohio) Civic Center at the end of a party, and discovering my Dad stuffing my stocking by my bedside in the middle of the night. After telling my parents of my discoveries, I kept my disbelief to myself as a courtesy to my younger siblings.

I began to believe again twenty-five or so years later when I owned and operated a combination balloon delivery business and costume shop in Chillicothe Ohio.

It was mid-November when I met Tim. The previous owner of the shop had used him to play Santa for the previous two Holiday seasons. We talked, I liked him. We came to an arrangement where I would arrange dates and he would show up, collect the fee, and cut me in for 10% just for making those arrangements.

I didn’t realize that Tim had a following until just after Thanksgiving. The phone in the shop was ringing almost constantly by people more than willing to put cash on the barrelhead for his services.

Tim Lived in Circleville, working at the box plant driving a loader all day. He wasn’t a burley man – to look at him he was probably the last person one would believe as being Santa. But he worked around his physical self, creating an illusion that he was the real deal. Even adults believed the illusion he created.

Tim and I were quite pleased with our take that first Christmas Season and agreed to do it again the following year.

That second year went on as well as the first. Unfortunately, Tim as Santa was one of only three bright spots in my first year in business. I ended up throwing in the towel the following Summer, barely able to pay my outstanding debts and feeling sorry for myself.

Six years after losing the business (and losing touch with Tim), I ran into another “Real Santa” working in the Santa House in Central Center.

The Gentleman in question, Jim, was the proprietor of the Dairy Queen over in Bainbridge Ohio. His store was closed for the season and he decided to buy a Santa suit so he could play the “Jolly Old Elf” at his leisure. Jim had more of the Santa build, but he also had the magic.

We chatted one afternoon about a problem I had with my then pre-school daughter, Sarah. Sarah was dead set against any sort of costumed character, especially Santa Claus.

I ended up taking Sarah on a shopping trip one evening, suggesting we go visit Santa before going into the store. Somehow I managed to coax her into the Santa House. She was immediately impressed that Santa knew who I was, and just as impressed that Santa knew who she was!

Magic Managed.

My daughter believed.

I believed.

Thirty years down the road – Both of my Santas are gone. But they live on, at least in the mind of a woman in Southern Illinois who is looking for that one person to re-create that magic for her family at least one more time.

I hope she finds him.

Be Seeing You!

Lemonaid

Back to the old saw, “When life hands you lemons, make lemonade.”

Yes, I realize that I misspelled lemonade in the title, but that was deliberate as it has to do with my previous post.

I left you, the reader, with the better half and me poised to head up to southern Illinois to look at homes where we could retire.

Thursday evening of the weekend before Labor Day weekend, the dog Filbrix was due at “Doggie Camp” the next morning, our hotel room was booked, and we were nearly packed for our trip when my daughter called in a panic. It appears that at the last possible moment, she and her significant other were told to vacate their premises because they were “Out of Control.” It sounded to the better half and me that my daughter and her significant other were deemed “Out of Control” because they were in a same-sex relationship.

Relationships aside, they needed a place to go. I didn’t hesitate, nor did my better half. Life had handed my daughter a lemon. I was going to aid them by offering our hospitality… hence, the term “Lemonaid” in the title.

A few back and forths later, it was determined that my daughter would make her way from Georgia to Texas at the same time the better half and I were on our way to house-hunt in Illinois. Since she would arrive in Texas in our absence, we arranged for a key to be held by a mutual friend so my daughter could gain access to the house.

Crisis averted, for her. More lemons to come for us.

When we went to Illinois, we had a specific house in mind to look at and/or to make an offer for. In-town, close to a dog park (one of the dog Filbrix’s favorite things), nicely done back yard, and solar panels already installed and running. The better half was sold when she saw the solar panels. Two-thirds of the way to our destination, our Realtor called and told us that the house had been taken off the market. Sold. Dang!

Fortunately, we were forearmed of the possibility that the house we wanted would be unavailable, so, we had three other places we would look at.

The first was an older grey stucco in an historic district with a detached garage which looked like there would be a Studebaker hidden inside once the garage door was opened. It looked lovely until we went inside. Apparently, the previous owner had passed on to his reward and the house was being sold as part of his estate. There was trash (neatly bagged) in the living room and other indications that nothing had been done to make the house more saleable. Not only that, but the garage was empty. No Studebaker.

We then moved on to a newer place, a ranch house, with what could charitably be called a pie-shaped backyard. There were signs that the neighbors were potentially noisy and the house had a weird layout. We passed.

The third place was perfect. Large, fenced-in yard, fantastic master suite, well laid out, and a sunroom where we could install a hot tub!

We made an offer, but someone beat us to it.

Back to the drawing board.

We had a chat with the finance guy and a chat with the Realtor. The upshot was that while our credit was swell and we could pull the money together for a down payment and closing costs, we needed to sell our house in Texas before we could buy a house in Illinois.

Now, our trip wasn’t a total wash… we did manage to connect with the other half’s children (and the grandchild) while we were there. We also found a decent place to get barbecue. The trip back was scenic (although it involved a few more hours of travel than we would have liked), and we got a few ideas of places we’d like to visit once we relocated.

Once we got back, though, we knew what needed to be done. We were determined to make the move, but now we had a clearer vision of what needed to be done and in what order. And then there was the task of getting the house in order with two more humans to either help or hinder.

But that’s a tale for another time.

Be Seeing You!