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SAM WISHES EVERYONE A MERRY CHRISTMAS......


And he wants you to hear of his Macy's Christmas adventure:

Friday, December 12th: This was going to be a special day. Sam was off to England soon, my Christmas season would thus be very short, John and Desiree had already taken Sam to see the tree at Rockefeller Center, and so Sonja and I decided to take Sam to see Santa at Macy's Department Store.

Now, of course we knew that Sam would have no idea who this fuzzy guy in a red suit would be, and we certainly didn't intend to do the whole lap thing. But, if forced to confess, this was something both Sonja and I thought would be neat to experience, and something we wouldn't be able to get away with if we didn't have a kid with us.

Sam, after all, is thrilled by the lights in the lobby of his apartment (see photo above) building. What would Macy's have that could top that!

But for the adults, raised on Miracle on 34th Street, this was a Christmas must-see.

Sam and I met mom after work. On Friday's she teaches at HBO, on 42nd Street. The lobby was lavishly decorated with various moving tableaux, depicting a variety of christmas stories. Sam loved it. He was in awe.

Christmas in Times Square is always fun, so we joined the holiday crowds and gradually made our way down to 34th Street. We found Macy's. Which was not too difficult since it consumes an entire Manhattan block. Still. We weren't completely sure that we had made it until we saw the monster penguin hovering over the entrance. Should've took a picture. Into Macy's and followed the helpful sales staff into the "stroller only" elevator and up to the fourth floor and Santaland.

Our bizarre experience was about to begin.

The line into Santaland was long, but moving nicely. It wound its way through a disney-like forest, filled with various animated talking trees and stuff that fascinated Sam. There were

gingerbread men,

penguins (didja see the alien kid with his Pooh shirt and laser eyes hovering over our vulnerable Sam?),

magic lights,

freaky little hammering creatures that gave me the creeps, since I was convinced they were going to suck out Sam's brain because I saw Sam's head starting to glow (I got him out of there real fast),

and a giant styrofoam teddy bear, among other attractions.

While we were progressing through this Santasy land, Sonja and I discussed the life and times of department store Santas. We easily concluded that being the Macy's Santa would be the pinnacle of achievement for a department store Santa. The auditions must be brutal. Searching for Edmund Gwynn (he of that previously heretofore-mentioned film), or someone even better. The ultimate Santa. Can you imagine, as a department store Santa, having Macy's on your resume? Sonja and I were starting to get rather excited at the thought of seeing the King of all Santas. He had to be special, for so special a job. His beard and hair would be snow white, and real. We wondered what he does the rest of the year. Lie around on the beach in Miami waiting for December to roll around, probably. We were discussing such complexities when we reached a velvet rope, like the things they have outside clubs to keep the uncool out. Or a restaurant. In front of us it was all dark and gloomy. A Macy's elf approached us, unhooked the velvet rope, and said "Three of you? Right this way." We had no idea what was happening. We could make out a bunch of booths, made to look like parts of little elf-huts I suppose. The elf looked into a few of them before selecting one and pushing us through the door. We were in a small hut, empty except for a fuzzy guy in a red suit sitting in a corner looking like the Santa you might see in any suburban mall. Fake beard drooping slightly. The "ho-ho-ho" of a man wondering when his next ciggie break is coming. While Sonja and I simply stared, the elf grabbed Sam and plopped him on the lap. THE lap, of a huge fuzzy red guy making terrifying sounds. Sam screamed. We almost did the same. The elf furiously snapped photos, trying I suppose to get one in between Sam's wails. I started to take a picture and got an elf-look that warned me in no uncertain terms that Santa would kick me in the balls if I dared to click the shutter.

After a few more screams from Sam, we got him out of there. It felt like we were making an escape, and we hurried to get away, trailed by the elf who was now trying to sell us the keepsake photo of Sam and Santa ($14 for a 4 X 6 print).

Afterwards we thought ruefully back to our naive dream of a perfect Santa. The creme-de-la-creme of Santas. The one we always knew would be the real one. The one to make all our dreams come true.

Instead we got a Santa-in-a-booth. One of dozens.

Later, while doing some internet research into this strange-but-slick (and very lucrative) set up, I came across a wonderful piece by David Sedaris describing the time he spent as a Macy's elf. Originally broadcast on NPR's Morning Edition, it captures my thoughts quite well. You can listen to it (click on the Santaland Diaries link) here.

The saving grace of our trip to Macy's were the beautiful old wooden escalators. They were amazing. I swear, the steps you ride on must have been carved from some kind of mahogany. These photos don't have the sharpness needed to capture this wood, unfortunately. But believe me, after the ersatz Santa, I needed this wood to bring me back to a warm Christmas place in my heart...

Ah well. No matter how fake the world gets, we'll always have our very own real elf.



P.s. an addendum to the Macy's report:

Today's New York Times (Sunday 12/21) has an article on the current status of Santa Claus, and it includes this section on Macy's:

Bill Egan, a Christmas historian, said that his fondest memory of Santa was visiting Macy's flagship store in New York City when he was a child living in New Jersey. "I bet the Macy's Santa Claus is about as close as you can get to the real thing these days," he said.
However, at Macy's today, playing Santa Claus is a job that appears by this reporter's rough estimate to be handled by about seven men. Children and their parents wait in a line that loops through a maze of singing trees, toy trains and styrofoam candy before they arrive at Santa's Workshop, where an elf ushers them into one of several rooms, each of them housing a Santa Clause. When asked how many men were working the job of Santa, a Macy's spokeswoman, Elina Kazan, adjusted her voice to a wincingly sweet timbre, and said there was only one Santa Claus. And he sees 250,000 to 3000,000 visitors a season. "His name is Kris Kringle," she said.
Yeah, that gem of information and a transit card will get someone a ride on the subway. What about all those guys in the booths, Ms. Kazan? "There is only one Santa Claus," she said.
When informed of the Santa sweatshop at Macy's, Mr. Egan, the Christmas historian said, "Multiple Santas? Like a production line? Oh, that's awful. Oh, how terrible. You just wrecked my Christmas."


(so it's not just me being cantankerous) :)

Have a safe and wonderful Christmas, and enjoy each other.

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We knew we would get a bit of snow, but we didn't know that it would be one of the biggest early-winter storms in NYC history! Sam makes history wherever he goes....

As you can see in the above photo, Sam was not quite sure what to make of all this cold white stuff. What was millions and millions of 'bubbles' to him, seen through his apartment window, became something far stranger. But still interesting. When Mom took him out into the snow for a closer look at these 'bubbles', the snow was still falling quite heavily, and the wind was bitter. Sam didn't complain. Didn't jump up and down and make angels in the snow, true. He was unusually quiet. Mom took him on his first toboggan ride, a wonderful long run down a great hill at an exciting but kid-comfortable speed (Sam's the blur in the middle). At the end of the ride he was again silent. So Grandpa took him for the next ride. After it was done, Sam still had exactly nothing to to say. No comment. Hey, let's see some excitement, young man! Your Mom and your grandpa are certainly jumping around in glee, what's up with you? The wind began to pick up quite a bit so we figured we'd best be on our way. During a supermarket stop, on the way home, Sam was still silent.

But as we went into his apartment building, he made his desire to go back outside quite loudly and dramatically. Interesting.

And then, once he finally agreed to come inside, he started talking a mile a minute. Grandma, the infant toddler specialist (all families should have one around) calls this 'processing.'

So here he is after coming inside for the last time: back to our usual favorite smiley sam.

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SAM AT THE ZOO AND OTHER MISCELLANEOUS OUTINGS AND ADVENTURES (INCLUDING THANKSGIVING)....................



Sam is hard to keep up with sometimes. I do my best to share his American adventures with the world, but the sheer massive volume of these little jaunts of his keeps me from having the time to post them. I am pleased that Aunt Deb has put some of her Sam-adventure photos up. Mom and Dad are so busy with the boy that they barely have time to view his blog, much less post anything. However, I expect daily blog updates during Sam's Christmas Brit adventures! Consider this fair warning.

So for now, here's a few recent photos from a few recent expeditions. Hey, is this a vanity site or what! You realize, of course, that Sam is going to kill us all when he enters his teenage years and realizes that the entire world has had practically instantaneous access to his toddler years. I was talking with his Uncle John about this yesterday, and what a long way we've come. From cameras to videos to Blogs.... You know, supposedly I can put video on these things. Haven't started down that road, because if I do I'm doomed...

I mean, it's bad enough that Sam has successfully lured his Yank grandma and grandpa into getting an apartment in his building...(one floor down. We expect him to visit us. Lots)...

On another note: today we're having our first snowstorm of the winter. Sam looked out the window, pointed at the snowflakes, and said, very clearly: "Bubbles!"

A few weeks ago Grandma took Sam to the Central Park Zoo. The photo above (my current desktop background, and a great candidate for the 'best of' series) was taken of Sam happily pointing out the ducks. The word 'ducks' is one of Sam's favorites, and thus that particular animal makes him smile. Goats are cool, too. Here he's getting goat food. Here he's inspecting a goat. Note: despite what seems a great distance between small boy and very large goat, Sam was absolutely fearless with this particular beast; unfortunately Grandma didn't get any photos of their intense and close interaction because getting the camera that close to this goat would have risked camera-loss-down-goat-gullet. So here's a simple photo of Sam looking good.

And then there was the excellent Thanksgiving spent at the Connecticut home of Sonja's Aunt and Uncle (what does that make them to Sam? Great Aunt/Uncle? I can't figure out this geneaology stuff), Theodore and Barbara. Sam came bearing a lovely gift. He was joined by Mom, and by Dad, and the rest of his immediate clan. At the groaningly laden table, our small tyrant king of course sat at the head (I can't believe I didn't move that wine bottle! It would have been a classic photo..... ah well, I'm getting far too fussy). Another member of Theo and Barbara's household, Dutch, decided that the only way he was going to get any of the Thanksgiving food was to get it from Sam's face. We all had a great time.

The brilliant Patrick, Theo and Barbara's son, was there. He's still riding high on the fashion accolades he's been getting. Check out his most recent collection. I think he's a genius. Even Sam loves his stuff.

Don't ask me explain this next Thanksgiving photo: boys showing off their toys perhaps?

A family expedition on the day following the turkey, to the Wadsworth Atheneum in nearby Hartford, curated by Sam, went quite well. As you can see here, Sam's relaxed style of art appreciation has strongly influenced his father. Sam enjoyed showing his Mom around, explaining the finer points of various paintings for her. He also had no hesitation in interrupting his viewing for some liquid refreshment.

Finally, as a goodbye to Thanksgiving, here's a photo that shows most of the T'giving gang, and a good photo, if I do say so myself, of Patrick's sister Annick.

Sam has been spending some quality time with his Uncle John and Aunt Desiree lately. One day they made a deli stop. Here's Sam's lust for John's pizza. And here's lovely pics of Sam with the beautiful Desiree.

On a recent gallery trip, to see some new works by a fellow named Howard Hodgkins (Sam thought them quite restful), one patron turned to another and said, pointing to Sam, "there's the best work of art you'll see in a long time." I was sorry, however, that he slept. I think he would have liked the pictures as much as his grandpa did (photos don't do them justice: the paintings are luscious and, as one reviewer noted, eminently lickable).

Sam was awake during a visit to the Children's Museum, though. It was hard to get good photos of the boy that day; he was moving way too fast

And hey, if we're (that's a euphemism for grandpa) going to embarrass the lad, we might as well go all the way. Ah, the joys of diaper changing in Bryant Park, NYC. Sam is completely unconcerned. For now at least.

And we end today's grab bag of photo-ventures with a nice shot of Sam with his Uncle John in Times Square.