Drunken Santa « Stumpar’s Blathering

We have a Christmas decoration that has been in the family for decades. It is a ten inch tall store-bought Santa doll manufactured somewhere in Asia long ago. He once was clean and brightly appointed; his synthetic fiber beard was finely groomed, his jolly plastic face beaming with spayed-on color, vinyl belt and stamp steel buckle gleamed from his red and white garments, and the bag of toys on his shoulder overflowed with cardboard drums, plastic horns and pipe cleaner candy canes. He is worn and soiled now. And that is a good thing.

Santa is battered and tattered from a family who has made him a cheery part of yearly celebrations. Most (maybe all) of my lifetime he’s been brought out and stood against something in the house for the holiday. Yeah, he’s always needed something to lean on; his legs are wobbly and his feet don’t balance his weight well enough to trust him on his own. That has been our joy with him–he is our drunken Santa, the jolly guy who can’t stand up without help.

Every year, now at my sister’s home, we dig out decorations; most of them newer, unique to my sister’s family, but drunken Santa is always looked for and proudly displayed. His face is faded and smudged, his beard is tangled and yellowed, clothes are dirty and stained from a rusty belt buckle, his bag of toys reduced to stuffing and a few faded, rusted pipe cleaner candy canes.

But his arm is still hale, he musters enough grip to hold the family’s oddloom fish-shaped wine bottle on the mantle. He stands–sort of–happy with Christmas memories past and soon to be. Drunken Santa is another of our oddlooms; more importantly, he is an icon for fun we make into holiday magic each year. Cheers!