In Defense of Santa

I didn’t think it was possible for Christmas-themed television commercials to get any more aggressive. I thought the ponytailed woman in the Target ads, who gleefully shouts to unseen neighbors as she reads a store sale circular on her front porch, and trains for holiday shopping – and present wrapping – with the dedication of an Olympic athlete, was as zealous as it got.  

And I remain hopeful that society will overcome the breathless news coverage of Black Friday, which this year predictably highlighted the handful of dysfunctional folks who took matters of consumer justice into their own hands while the rest of us held open doors and places in line or, as in the case of our local big box store, stayed home, having stashed their wallets until the economy improves.

Then Best Buy decided to go after Santa Claus.

The Christmas ads created for the electronics store chain take media holiday zealotry in a troubling new direction. In one, a salesperson punctuates an assurance that the store will match a competitor’s price with “look out, Santa.” The shopper’s happiness in getting a good price turns to competitive fervor: “Oh, yeah,” she says with a level of fierceness that would startle Tyra Banks.

We next see Santa about to put a bottle of cologne in the stocking of the shopper’s husband. The woman turns on the lights. “Daddy don’t want no cologne,” she says, a massive HDTV sitting on a table to her left. “Wow,” Santa says as a lion attacks a zebra in full flat-screen splendor. “Yeah – wow,” the woman proudly retorts. “Look at that.” Cologne still in hand, Santa recoils slightly, although it’s not clear whether it’s a reaction to the Darwinian violence unfolding in front of him, or because he senses that the creators of the Christmas play may want to “go in another direction.”

In another spot, a shopper marvels at how many gifts Best Buy has available for less than $100. “Guess Santa better watch out, huh?” suggests a chipper employee. The woman, holding a digital camera in one hand and an e-reader in the other, fires a knowing “Santa is toast” nod.

Next we see Santa attempting to put a toy truck into a stocking already bulging with snazzier goodies. The woman we saw moments earlier waits for him. She leans against a jam in the entryway, holding a mug of coffee.

“Awww…guess I didn’t leave any room for you,” she says with high-pitched arrogance, sweep-pointing at the largesse under her family’s tree.

“Awkward,” she adds in a slightly higher voice with a mocking pout.

Santa sniffs and nods slightly, his leg having just been swept by the bully in The Karate Kid.

“Maybe you could fill his,” the triumphant woman suggests. She points downward, where Ralph, a small dog dressed as a reindeer, waits, a stocking in his mouth. She gestures to Santa with her mug and whispers “good night” before heading off to bed.  The dog’s off-camera bark startles Santa as “Game On, Santa” appears onscreen.

A third ad ends with yet another victorious shopper seated in her living room, menacingly drinking the glass of milk meant for Santa. The accompanying cookies sit untouched nearby, with a kid-made “For Santa” sign reminding us of their intended recipient. They’ll be devoured next.

Is this what Christmas has come to? Gloating over vanquishing Santa? Before you feign surprise or indignation, consider that we’ve recently taken to celebrating breathing and stringing together consecutive steps, so in need of calibration is our national “hero” meter.




But slamming Santa? Really? It would be like shouting “Oh yeah – well, I think you’re super special” right after you’ve body checked Mister Rogers away from a child whose self-esteem he had just lovingly built up. Or gloating to the cast of Sesame Street that your 100,000 websites on ducks will provide their young viewers with so much more information than the ultra-curious Elmo could muster – even with Mr. Noodle’s able assistance.

Or ringing every blasted bell on the Baileys’ Christmas tree in a self-aggrandizing attempt to guarantee wings to every member of the angels’ union local. Just helping out Clarence isn’t enough.

Unions actually bring us to what’s most troubling about the Best Buy ads: the privatization of Santa. It’s easy to picture these Best Buy moms at a Brookings Institution seminar, prattling on about how it’s so much more cost-effective to consolidate gift giving, even if Santa has to be reassigned and a few elves have to be let go along the way.

And anyway, they’d argue, forcing parents to have “the discussion” with kids about Santa’s existence is another stark example of big government’s insinuation into our lives. Michelle Obama already commands us to eat okra and endive. Convening “Claus panels” to explain away the myth? Well, that’s just one more step down the road to socialism.

Yes friends, just like the U.S. Post Office or Medicare, Santa just can’t be counted on anymore to efficiently manage Christmas. He’ll probably have to wait six months for the government to process his request for replacement reindeer. Or he’ll end up in Canada, where all he’ll find are cheap unsafe knockoffs.

What? It could happen.