“For all you kids watching at home, Santa just is white. Just because it makes you feel uncomfortable doesn’t mean it has to change, you know? I mean, Jesus was a white man too. He was a historical figure, that’s a verifiable fact, as is Santa—I just want the kids watching to know that.”
-Megyn Kelly, Fox News television host
Apparently, Ms. Kelly felt obligated to set the record straight. Her comment arose in response to a column for Slate last week by Aisha Harris, in which Harris wrote that she had always been confused as a child because the Santa in her home had brown skin like her, but the Santa in malls and on television was always white.
If you've read my shtick before, you're probably expecting the same old formula, right? I post the ignorant quote, then spend the next three thousand characters lampooning it…
…which would be so very easy in this case, but no need to this time. A very special someone else has stepped up to ease the burden, and this someone packs some heavyweight caché.
I hung with Santa last night. I really did. That's not some euphemism to describe a random freeway rest stop encounter with a fat guy. I chatted with The Kris Kringle, legendary President and CEO of North Pole Air Freight. We always exchange a few pleasantries while my kids place their orders, something that has gone down every year since they were small enough to gum dust bunnies:
But last night was different. The moment my eyes met Saint Nick's, I could tell the chap was chapped. His cheeks weren't the usual cheery cherry, they were more of a pissed off purple, much like the enduring facial tint of Tom Caughlin, New York Giants head coach.
Then I remembered—he was still feeling salty about Kelly's comment. The ignoramus had obviously gotten to him a little. Skipping the usual small talk, he reached into his fuzzy lapel, pulled out a note and thrust it in my direction. It smelled of mint and single malt. "I need you to share this with the world. I'm only going to say it once," he said. As my daughters propped themselves onto his lap, his mood changed instantly.
But I had a job to do, and by Dasher and Dancer, who can say no to the Godfather of Gastric Bypass? So here it is—Santa Claus' response to Megyn Kelly, word for word:
Dear Ms. Kelly:
Let me tell you, I don't watch your network, but since I assoicate with multitudes of pointy-eared goblins, many around me do. I think it was that dentist elf that brought your comments to my attention, and I felt the need to respond.
Usually I prefer to travel the high road. Do I take it personally when some kid thinks I'm Ted Bundy in tinsel?
Nah. Usually, they just want to get through the photo op fast so they can fill my ears with pleas for pink and purple plastic shit.
Here's what steams my humbow, Kelly—what gives you the right to label me as white? Does this look white to you?
Or this?
Remember, it's totally cool. Even my elves get a little separation anxiety while waiting on the roof.
I'm freaking Santa Claus. If I can manage to reverse burgle a billion houses in one night, why wouldn't I be able to change my ethnicity? Let me tell you something, toots, nothing keeps a marriage fresh like turning into Spanish Santa after putting the reindeer to bed.
Oh, and as far as you're concerned, Fox News news fox, I could be Typhoid Leper Santa as long as you find your friends Dolcé and Gabanna under the tree in the morning.
Why do you even care what color I am? What does it matter? Look at me now—Bam! Asian Santa:
And by the way, historical Jesus was about as white as a milk chocolate Toblerone.
