i remember santa coming to our house in deerfield. i think his name was charley. we pretended he was santa a few times i think, but after a while i got tired of pretending. i wanted badly to unmask santa, at least in my memory, if my memory serves me, and who else would it serve? and i pulled the beard off, or stretched it on its elastic band and pop, released. i know i did it, it was me, i remember it so clearly. that was a moment, it was b.s., before santa, and a.s., anti-santa. i'm sure we sat on the lap of one or two mall santas after that, and that only made me more anti-santa—the creepy laps, and knowing you don't get what you want from them, they get paid and you get grab bag.

yeah, i'm listening, now give me treats.