Santa Claus and the spirit of an old man

I've been thinking a lot about Santa Claus lately. It started for me a couple of days ago when I picked up a discarded toy while I was out on my morning ride, took it home, cleaned it up, did small repairs to it, and donated it to the Goodwill the next day. And it occurred to me that if anything marks my transition from "older man" to "old man", that's it. It was a strange and magical feeling.

And now I'm thinking of society's attitude towards old men through history. In my lifetime, old men have been a lot of things, including dirty, and creepy, and miserly. I look in the mirror nowadays, in my sixties, and I see my grey hair, and the lines on my face and I wonder what kind of old man I am.

In my lifetime society's view of old men has changed. Before I was born, when that drawing at the top of this post was made, Santa Claus represented the very best thing that an old man could aspire to - kindly, generous, and when he gave a toy to a child it was just for the heart-warming feelings. Sadly, this started to shift in the 1970s, and these type of old men seemed to disappear, to be gone forever.

But they're not gone, I'm one of them. You can have your cynical attitude, and your suspicions, but there really is a Santa Claus spirit in old men. I know, I felt it, I can see it in the mirror, I can feel it in my heart. How about that?

Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus. He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy. Alas! how dreary would be the world if there were no Santa Claus.

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