What Santa Does After The Christmas Rush

We're in California, Pasadena to be specific. (Actually, that is no longer true. We were there. We've come home. But, try to imagine us there. The following was written while there. Got it?) We're participating in the annual Tournament of Roses Parade. Adam and Kathryn are two of the featured few, designated to ride on the float. The float is a joint project/product of the cooperative efforts of Pfizer Corporation and the National Alzheimer's Association. The float is called the boomer express, named to signal the nation concerning an oncoming tidal wave of the disease, powered largely by the baby boomers who are beginning to turn 65 this year. Given that Alzheimer's is an age related disease (the older you get, the more likely you are to become a recipient of the disease), we will see a huge increase in onset of the disease, projected to be around 15 million in the next couple of decades, requiring an accumulated expenditure by then of some $20 trillion dollars, should no cure or attenuating medication be found or developed. We don't have that kind of money.

So all of us involved in the ALZ cause (individuals, associations, corporations, etc.) are doing everything we can to the raise awareness, remove the stigma, pressure governments and corporations to act together, quickly and seriously, to address the topic in mass. The Boomer Express float is part of that effort. Kathryn and Adam will ride and wave, along with about 23 other folks. It has thus far been a very fun experience.

Last night, Thursday, we went to the location where 12 of the floats are in the final stages of construction and decoration. Everything except the frame on every float must be organic. They have developed special glues, tools, and rules to assure and regulate the process. It's hugely intricate. The Boomer Express is about 50 or 60 feet long, with structures rising to about 30 or 35 feet on top of it. It's an old railroad steam engine and passenger car. Because of the weather and age of the participants, most will ride inside the car. Each float is the beloved recipients of more than 20,000 volunteer hours to complete it. A year is required to design and produce the finished product. Themes for next year's parade are already being discussed and finalized.

This morning, Kathryn and I walked the parade route. By 8:30 am, spaces on the edge of Colorado Avenue were being claimed by intrepid parade watchers. They will sleep out tonight in what promises to be rather cold, cold weather. The street is a place on this day for car enthusiasts to show off their work, from racing vehicles to street rods to chopped body muscle cars to ancient, rare vehicles. We saw one, a white Humber, that I have never seen before, truly a classic.
The parade will be fun to watch. Adam and Kathryn will ride. Smith and I will watch from the grandstand. Whitley, Laine, and Rosie will be somewhere out on the parade route. A not to be missed experience.

So where does Santa Claus fit in all of this? Last night, as we walked around the construction area, looking at the various floats, we discovered what Santa Claus does after he's finished with distributing gifts to deserving boys and girls. We met him. He's a large man, not only rotund but tall, about 6 foot 3 inches. He wears the red cap rimmed with white fur and topped with a little bell. He indeed has a flowing white beard, white eyebrows and lashes, and snowy white hair. Last night, the hair was a little in disarray. However, no traditional Santa Suit. He wore work boots, besmirched Levi's and white t-shirt, spattered with paint, glitter, and all sorts of flower seeds, pieces of stems and leaves and other organics not familiar to us. We stopped him as tried to rush by us on some urgent errand. Who was he really? Santa, of course, was his reply. We asked if this is what he always did after the rush of toy deliveries. Yes. He said it was his way of relaxing and he's done it for countless years. He laughed in a familiar, jolly sort of way, excused himself, and sauntered off down the street, happily whistling "Jingle Bells." Adam and Whitley and Kathryn and I and our guard traded looks of astonishment. So that is what he does. We had no idea. Later, I found out one of the hazards of his work. I headed for one of the portapotties, dispersed by the thousands around the grounds. I found one apparently unoccupied and swung open the door. There was santa again, standing straignt and tall, about to leave the little plastic cabin. I excused myself, but before I could depart, he exclaimed as he disappeared out of sight, that he was just removing glue from his beard, a common malady in this kind of work. So, that's what he does after Christmas. I have picture proof of same. I just hadn't remembered he wore glasses. Maybe it's only for close up work. Happy New Year!!!