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Gaffer Variety:
Herr Klaus 030:
By Willie Gaffer:
March 6, 2006:
It's been kind of an unusual winter so far. January in particular has been weird. We have had several days so warm it was pleasant to sit on the deck and smoke a cigar. I usually have to wait until April for that kind of thing. The other thing is, after December, there just was not much snow around. I don't mind that, but all the mud and slop gets on my nerves after a while. That caused me to thing of the North Pole where there is always snow. So I decided, what the heck, I'll just take a run up and check in with Herr Klaus. It's been a long time since I saw him and I figured I would enjoy a visit.
The trip was alright. I had to take the last lap by dogsled, but I'm not adverse to a bit of adventure now and then. I got to the little house and rapped on the door. I expected to be greeted, as always, by a cheerful smiling Frau Klaus. Not this time. The door opened alright, but I was looking at a very grim and worried looking Frau Klaus. I was taken aback.
"Frau Klaus," I exclaimed. "You look upset.
Is something wrong?"
"Yah Villie," she said sadly. "Wrong is der understatement.
Something is real wrong."
"My God," I blurted. "It's not Herr Klaus, is it?
Is he ill?"
"Sick alright, but not ill, Villie. Sick mit der heart."
"Sick in the heart? Good old Saint Nick! What happened?"
"It's der kids and the nutty people."
"The kids? How so Frau Klaus?"
"It's der Christmas thing. He went out alright, just like
always. Den he come home und I see something is wrong. He is not
red in the face, like always. He is crimson. Yah," she said
absently, "Crimson."
"Wow! You mean crimson like mad, angry?"
"Angry is not bad. He was enraged," she replied.
"At the kids?"
"Yah, Villie," she answered. "At der kids und the
adults too! Been like that since Christmas? Not rage anymore.
He just sits there and mutters, day after day."
"Wow," I said. "Maybe I better see him, talk to
him."
"I don't think it would help," she sighed, "but
go ahead. It can't hurt."
So I went into the parlor and there he sat, muttering to himself
with his head bowed. He did not have his suit on. He was just
in his longjohns and he looked unkempt, haggard even. He had lost
weight and his beard had not been combed. His skin was kind of
grey.
"Herr Klaus," I managed. "What is wrong? You look
ill."
His head twitched a bit so I knew he had heard me, but he continued
to mutter and look down.
I walked up and put my hand on his shoulder. "Herr Klaus,"
I whispered.
"What, what, eh," he blurted. "What?"
"It's me, Herr Klaus, Willie Gaffer."
"Oh," he managed. "Yah Villie. Yah."
"What's wrong Santa?" I asked plaintively.
His eyes blinked as he looked at me and recognition began to dawn.
"Wrong?" he repeated.
"Yeah, Santa," I said. "What's wrong?"
He looked at me sadly. "Villie, you don't know," he
sighed.
"Tell me."
"It's der Got Damn kits!" he blurted. "And the
parents. Adults, all of dem!"
"Were the kids different this year?"
"Maybe not different. Maybe I just see dem now, maybe dey
are more so."
"More so what, Santa?"
"More so greedy little buggers!" he snapped.
"I'm just sick to death of this stupid human race. I'm hanging
it up. That's all. There are all these fascists who are pretending
to represent God on one side. There are other crazies who want
to force me to stop saying, Merry Christmas. Then there are all
those crummy little brats hollering gimme, gimme, gimme. They
don't have a clue of what Christmas is about. Then there are the
stupid parents and grandparents who reenforce that greed. It's
too much. I'm hanging it up I tell you. I'm through."
He was on a roll, letting it out, and I was not inclined to stop
him. I just sat down and listened.
"There are starving kids in Ethiopia. People murdering each
other. They don't care. All they say is gimme, gimm gimme.
"They don't want Christmas. They want greed. They want racism,
murder, and mayhem.
"They can have it. I'm hanging it up.
"I'll give myself some skis for Christmas. I'm going to hit
the slopes next year. Don't look for me in any chimneys or shopping
malls.
"Screw the brats.
"Screw their parents too.
"Greedy buggers!
"Maybe me and Lucifer can get together and start a little
resort somewhere near hell.
"To heck with God. He never did me any more favors than Lucy.
"I'm tired of the pole and all this damn snow anyhow.
"And that damn red suit is just plain silly. I get to itching
something fierce when I have to wear it all the time.
"Maybe me and Mrs. Klaus can take off to somewhere warm and
just never come back. Yeah! That's der ticket alright. Hit out
for some island in the pacific. Yeah."
He stopped and looked at me with cynicism. His color had improved
somewhat as he ranted.
"Why not?" he demanded.
"Hey Santa. It's alright with me," I said firmly. "All
I want is for you to feel okay again."
"Yah, Villie," That's what I like about you. You got
no agenda."
"Naw, I smiled." "I got a laundry list, but no
agenda."
The old guy just couldn't help himself. He began to snicker.
"Okay Villie," he said. "Thanks for coming by.
I just needed to get off on this crap."
"Glad I came," I said sincerity. "If your feeling
better, maybe we can celebrate?"
"Why not?" he said "Sit down now. Let's see what
we have in the cupboard."
"How bout if I treat?" I asked.
"Okay with me," he replied.
So I went up the trail to a little pizza place and picked up three
large double pepperoni pizzas and a big box of bread sticks with
cheese. I knew Frau Klaus had a nice stone over where she could
keep the stuff crispy while we ate it. There was a beer store
next door and I loaded on a couple of cases of Heineken. Then,
I picked out a bottle of orange blossom wine for Frau Klaus. When
I got back Frau Klaus was sitting beside the old guy combing his
hair and beard. He was smiling indulgently. I knew it was going
to be okay. We spent much of the rest of the day chatting, eating,
and sipping while Herr Klaus recovered his sense of humor about
it all.
"You know, Santa, if you don't want to go out next year it
would be okay with me. But, if you like I could come up to help
out. I could even bring a couple tons of coal for some of the
little buggers."
Klaus burst out with laughter. "Yah!" he snorted. "Coal
is what dose little snots need."
Maybe we could make a list," I suggested.
"I got der list," he reminded me. "Good ones und
bad ones. Der bad ones list gets longer und the good ones gets
shorter every year."
"Ain't that a fact?" I said. "How bout another
list. Maybe we could make a beyond hope list."
"The old guy laughed with his whole body. He was getting
into it again.
"Why not," he roared. "We could put a whole bunch
of adults on dat list. Yah!"
"Like a lot of congressmen?" I suggested.
"Ho, ho," said Santa. "You bet, und der president
too," he chuckled.
"Not his wife though," I added.
"No for sure," said Frau Klaus. "For her we should
have a saints list."
"Good idea," I agreed. "Tel you what Santa. I could
bring up a couple of tons of coal for the real bad two lump ones
and a bunch of gold stars for the saints who put up with them."
We continued adding names and by evening, we had two pretty long
lists. You don't want to know all of who is on them. Maybe you
are.
When I took my leave Klaus was feeling pretty good. Still, he
called out, "I really meant it Villie. Don't look for me
in any chimneys or shopping malls next December. I'll be somewhere
in the south Pacific."
"Okay with me," I shouted back as I waved.
Frau Klaus just shook her head and grinned at me.
I'm with her, I'm betting he will show up like always.
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