When I was growing up, my family used to vacation at the beach boardwalk in Santa Cruz, California. At least once a year, we'd drive from the San Francisco Bay Area through the Los Gatos mountains to the town of Santa Cruz where we'd bake too long in the sun, risk our lives on the Big Dipper roller coaster and kid ourselves that the freezing Pacific ocean was "actually quite warm."
On our drive in to Santa Cruz each summer, about six miles north of the shore, we would begin to notice enormous green metal Christmas trees towering over the California pines. At this point on our route, we'd stop and reflect on a fairytale land where gnomes, elves and bunnies lived in harmony, Santa's Village.
At Santa's Village it was Christmas - and Halloween, Easter, St. Patrick's Day, Valentine's Day and Thanksgiving - every day.
At Santa's Village all of my magical, color saturated, little girl dreams played out in front of me ...
even the one involving the freaky 6'4" Jack O' Lantern man.
Is Santa's Village trying to trick the kids with a donkey instead of a reindeer, again?
L to R: "Couldn't get a gig anywhere else" man; Santa; Mrs. "this is my big break out of community theatre"; Slutty Elf #1; "Really proud to be working in the gift store" woman; "Really proud to be working in the gift store" woman's bitch; "Not slutty enough to be an elf" girl; Slutty Elf #2; Santa's mom; "Santa's mom's personal live-in maintenance man."
Global warming at the North Pole...
No comments:
Post a Comment