Somewhere along the line, we stop believing in Santa. Most of us stop believing because we see our parents bringing in the gifts, someone at school tells us, whatever. It’s typically too early in life for us to rationalize why Santa Claus cannot possibly be real. More or less we accept it.
For the sake of a Christmas post, let’s pretend Santa Claus is at least possible.
He’s up there at the North Pole, with a gargantuan factory full of an untold army of workers. Considering the location (as remote as any place in the world, worst weather on the planet), his work force has to consist of serfs… at best. (Hey, you want these gifts for free? Of course he can’t pay his elves.) Magically, the elves have yet to revolt.
Imagine how much those elves steal. They aren’t paid and they’re likely worked to the bone for their entire lives. So Santa is dealing with some major liability issues inside his own factory.
Which brings me to one of the least plausible aspects of Santa’s story.
Imagine how much his insurance costs.
Impossible. The guy has TVs, jewelry, cars, you name it, for BILLIONS of people. The factory is guarded by what? Disgruntled dwarfs? Sounds secure. That’s not even considering how he gets all those gifts to their respective houses. Open-air flying sleds: not the safest way to ship cargo.
Maybe Santa could cover his insurance tab, maybe not. Last time I checked, insurance salesmen don’t accept “magic” as a form of payment.
In this day and age, anybody with an internet connection could find Santa’s headquarters. It would only be a matter of getting there. So what happens when somebody shows up? Santa would probably have to kill them or at least hold them prisoner. He’s a generous guy and all, but he can’t give away the secret of his location and what goes on in his factory.
While our workshop at Tadporters isn’t exactly Santa’s workshop, Mike isn’t exactly Santa, and I’m certainly no elf, we can sympathize with Santa’s hypothetical plight. (As a side note, it’s a good thing we aren’t like Santa. Nobody wants to sit on a guy’s lap to get a custom frame. Ew.)
Like Santa’s factory, our shop often has the kind of valuable work we have to keep secret. If you knew what we had back there at certain times… we wouldn’t have to kill you per say, but a tracking device may be in order.
For example, we frame priceless things for Graceland every now and then; not the kind of thing we’re giving our customers a tour of (except through photos). Since we just finished some work for Graceland and it’s out of the shop, now is a good time to share it.
As with most things in Memphis, Elvis pairs with Christmas in a number of ways. Elvis’s Christmas album is one of my favorites. I might like other Christmas music more, but since this is no season to go blaspheming the King, I’ll just say it is my favorite. Can’t beat “Blue Christmas.”
Graceland is kind of the star that everything in Memphis orbits. Perhaps that’s why they keep it lit so brightly at Christmas. I was surprised to learn Graceland is the second-most-visited private residence in the United States, second only to the White House. It pulls in the whole world.
As a final Christmas/Elvis tidbit, how’s this for a lump of coal? On December 20th, 1957 Elvis got his draft notice. Merry Christmas. Yeesh. I wonder if Santa dropped it off?
Here’s to avoiding the draft this Christmas! (Shouldn’t be too difficult)
Merry Christmas, everybody!