by Gerry Bowler
Those of you who are speaking to the little folks and telling them that Santa Claus coming to see ’em, and the little boys telling mother and father, “Tell old Santa to bring me a little pistol,” that same little gun may be, ah, death in that boy’s home. Death may be his Santa Claus. That little old girl is saying to mother and to father, “Tell old Santa Claus to bring me a little deck of cards that I may play five-up in the park.” While the child play, death may be her Santa Claus. Those of you that has prepared to take your automobiles and now fixing up the old tires, an’ getting your spares ready and overhauling your automobile, death may be your Santa Claus. You is decorating your room and getting ready for all-night dance, death may be your Santa Claus.… If I were you, I’d turn around this morning. Death may be your Santa Claus. Death been on your track ever since you was born, ever since you been in the world. Death winked at your mother three times before you was born into this sin-filled world. Death is gonna bring you down after while, after while; Death may be your Santa Claus.
The spread of radio and its ability to broadcast live church services gradually brought an end to this type of recording.
By 1947, Gene Autry had won fame as “The Singing Cowboy,” earning a wide following for his western movies, his radio show, and his musical recordings, many of which, like “That Silver-Haired Daddy of Mine,” he wrote himself. Inspired by children’s cries of “Here comes Santa Claus!” when he was riding his horse, Champion, in the 1946 Hollywood Christmas parade, Autry and his musical collaborator, Oakley Haldeman, produced a song that sold in the millions and was surprisingly religious in tone even for the 1940s – lyrics include “Santa Claus knows we’re all God’s children / That makes everything right” and “let’s give thanks to the Lord above / That Santa Claus comes tonight!” Before long Autry was solicited by many composers to record their Christmas material; among these would-be hit makers was Johnny Marks, brother-in-law of Robert May. Marks had taken May’s book and turned it into a catchy little ditty, aptly titled “Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer.” Like Cantor before him, Autry turned up his nose at the submission and, like Cantor, was persuaded by his wife, Ina, who felt an attraction to the ugly-duckling theme. Autry’s version was a great success, selling more than 100 million copies. Marks would go on to become a one-man Christmas industry, forming St. Nicholas Music in 1949. In addition to “Rudolph,” the company’s catalogue includes such perennial favourites as “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree,” “I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day,” “A Merry Merry Christmas,” “(There’s Nothing Like) an Old Fashioned Christmas,” “Silver and Gold,” “We Are Santa’s Elves,” “The Night Before Christmas Song,” “Everyone’s a Child at Christmas,” “Happy New Year, Darling,” “When Santa Claus Gets Your Letter,” “A Holly Jolly Christmas,” “The Most Wonderful Day of the Year,” “A Caroling We Go,” and “Jingle, Jingle, Jingle.” In 1964, the song was made into an animated film, narrated by Burl Ives, which is seen every Christmas on television.
Since the Second World War, most Santa Claus music has tended to fall into one of several broad categories – recordings made, not necessarily for children, but centring on their Christmas experiences; those aimed at an adult audience; and novelty songs that could appeal to a number of age groups – and within these a host of smaller themes.
The most influential of the child-centred Santa songs is undoubtedly Tommie Connor’s 1952 “I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus,” which was recorded by Spike Jones and His City Slickers, Teresa Brewer, and Perry Como but received its definitive performance from the young Jimmy Boyd. This song of innocent voyeurism made Boyd a short-lived yuletide sensation in the 1950s and spawned a hillbilly parody in Homer and Jethro’s “I Saw Mommy Smoochin’ Santa Claus.” Over the years, this scenario proved irresistible to other songwriters, who would come out with “I Saw Mommy Do the Mambo (With You Know Who),” “Santa Looks Like Daddy,” “Santa Claus Looks Just Like Daddy,” and “Santa Claus Is a Black Man,” all of which featured perceptive children observing the gift-bringer interacting intimately with Mom.
When writing Santa Claus songs for children, the prudent lyricist lays in extra supplies of sentiment. Merle Haggard’s 1973 country-tinged “Bobby Wants a Puppy Dog for Christmas” is the song of a lonely little boy who has no friends, neighbours, or kinfolk to play with. Electric trains are therefore of no use – Santa, please take note. Locomotives also appear in Roger Miller’s “Old Toy Trains,” which he wrote for his son. This is a sweet little plea for a child to go sleep on Christmas Eve, despite the anticipation of what Kris Kringle will bring. The anguish of the preliterate child is evoked by “Santa, Can I Talk to You?”, the tale of an infant who has heard of Santa’s goodness but who has yet to learn to write. (This song is not to be confused with the hormonally charged “Santa Can You Hear Me?” wherein pop strumpet Britney Spears yearns for a true love wrapped in a big red bow.) In “If Santa Claus Were My Daddy,” Little Jimmy Osmond yearned to be “Santa’s boy,” promising to be helpful and friendly every day of the year (but, rather cold-heartedly, planning to replace the old man at some future date).
Adult Santa songs are not without their own generous helping of sentiment, particularly when they deal with the question of belief. “Santa Claus (I Still Believe in You),” which took five fully grown songwriters to compose, throws an entire kitchen cabinet of saccharine at the issue, roping in Santa with a “bag full of Christmas cheer,” a Christmas tree surrounded by “sparkling little eyes,” a little girl clutching a baby doll, kids tucked in tight, a blissful mom and dad, and sprightly grandparents. Greg Lake’s 1975 “I Believe in Father Christmas” takes a slightly more elevated, but no less emotional, tone, sneaking in musical quotes from Prokofiev and “eyes full of tinsel and fire.” “I Still Believe in Santa Claus,” a 1989 credo by the boy group New Kids on the Block, opines that a retreat to a world of make-believe is necessary and that “for the sake of all children” we should let love show us the way. Dolly Parton’s “I Believe in Santa Claus” is a veritable hymn to faith, linking trust in Santa to a catalogue of moral virtues: family, country, smiles, turning positives to negatives, hope, destiny, and God.
Less trustful of Santa Claus are songs that inquire whether he ever delivers the goodies to less economically privileged areas. The first of these was Eddy Arnold’s 1961 musical query in which a poor little boy asks “Will Santy Come to Shanty Town?” This is a reasonable query, inasmuch as the kid’s shack lacks both a fireplace and a chimney and Santa has forgotten to stop by with toys in previous years. In “Santa Claus Do You Ever Come to the Ghetto?” Carlene Davis wonders if Santa ever wonders why her cohort suffers so? Where, she asks, are the presents meant for them? The Godfather of Soul, James Brown, a.k.a. “The Hardest Working Man in Show Business,” has simple directions for the gift-bringer: “Santa Claus, Go Straight to the Ghetto.”
There are tears a-plenty when country-and-western singers reach for the Santa hankies. In “If You Don’t Want to See Santa Claus Cry,” Alan Jackson entreats his estranged inamorata to return (“Baby come home,” he pleads) lest Saint Nick grow sad and be unable to navigate the sleigh with tears in his eyes. Toby Keith’s musical daughter steals downstairs on Christmas Eve, dragging her teddy bear, with the news that an angel has come to her with a message. This heavenly envoy has vouchsafed to her that “Jesus Gets Jealous of Santa Claus” at this time of year. The pathos of a broken family at the holidays is the burden of “Santa Can’t Stay” – a boy and girl witness an inebriated father being turned away at Christmas by Mom and her “new boyfriend, Ray.” Other country songs take a less melancholy approach to Santa Claus. Loretta Lynn, vexed that Santa had passed her stocking by last year, wishes that he would come to a grisly end and vows “To Heck With Ole Santa Claus.” “I’m Gonna Lasso Santa Claus” was Brenda Lee’s solution to inequitable toy distribution. “Cowboy Santa Claus” by the Prairie Ramblers and “Rootin’ Tootin’ Santa Claus” by Peewee King both place the gift-bringer in a rustic
setting.
African-American music has long invested the terms “Christmas” and “Santa Claus” with sexual overtones and some of the more adult seasonal music has come out of the blues and jazz traditions – as early as 1925 the Clarence Williams’ Trio was singing “The Santa Claus Blues.” The chimney metaphor gave Ella Fitzgerald ample opportunity for heavy-breathing wordplay in “Santa Claus Got Stuck in My Chimney”; the same held true for the 1957 Leiber/Stoller hit “Santa Claus Is Back in Town,” which urges the female listener to hang up her stockings and turn off the light because “Santa Claus is comin’ down your chimney tonight.” “Santa Claus Wants Some Lovin’ ” sang Mack Rice – Mama was in the kitchen, the children were fast asleep, and, apparently, it was time for Santa Claus to make his “midnight creep.” No one ever put more sinful insinuation into a Christmas-gift request than Eartha Kitt. In 1953, Eartha sang her wishlist for Santa, a catalogue of desires that omitted global peace but did include a yacht, a diamond ring, a sable, and a deed to a platinum mine. In “Santa Baby,” written by Joan Ellen Javits, Tony Springer, and Philip Springer, Eartha professed to have been good, but every one of her syllables oozed the contrary. She followed this classic up in 1954 with “This Year’s Santa Baby,” which detailed ever more ambitious wishes, such as a private plane and the ocean liner Queen Elizabeth. (Even Pearl Bailey was infected by this sort of tawdry materialism, singing to Santa of her need for “A Five Pound Box of Money.”)
Though everyone claims to deplore Christmas novelty music, it sells well every year, is heard constantly on the radio, and probably constitutes the biggest single category of Santa Claus songs. This sort of music is generally short-lived, but it is inevitable that whatever the current social trends are they will be reflected in contemporary Santa songs. When, for example, the space race of the late 1950s was all the news, it was entirely predictable that North Americans would be forced to listen to something along the lines of “Santa and the Satellite” (parts 1 and 2) by Bill Buchanan and Dickie Goodman. Whenever a new dance craze seized the nation, one could be sure that Santa Claus would get dragged onto the floor. Thus: “Reindeer Boogie,” “Boogie Woogie Santa Claus,” “Mambo Santa, Mambo,” “Where Is Santa Claus Polka,” “Rockin’ Santa,” “The Santa Claus Twist,” “Santa Salsa,” and “The Rockin’ Disco Santa Claus.” When youth culture focused on the car and surfing scene in California, the Beach Boys produced “Little Saint Nick” with a sleigh much like a hot rod: “When Santa gives her the gas, watch her peel.” As North American youth shifted to drugs and a hippie lifestyle, Arlo Guthrie’s “The Pause of Mr. Claus” ironically suggested that with his long hair, beard, and pipe Santa might be a communist.
In 1979, a recording phenomenon was unleashed upon an unsuspecting world with the broadcast of a new Christmas novelty tune, “Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer,” written by Randy Brooks and recorded by veterinarian Elmo Shropshire. In it, Grandma, who had been drinking too much eggnog, is found dead under circumstances that suggest she has been hit by Santa’s sleigh. The song achieved notoriety across North America when complaints that it was offensive to the sensibilities of elderly women were lodged with politicians, women’s groups, and seniors’ organizations. Though the tune is consistently voted among the “Worst Christmas Songs Ever” and an American disc jockey was fired for playing it (by request) twenty-seven times in a row, it has still sold more than 10 million copies. A whole host of parodies followed, beginning with “Grandpa Got Runned Over by a John Deere.”
The girth of the gift-bringer is something that has distinguished him since the days of Moore’s poem, “ ’Twas the Night Before Christmas” (when his little round belly was observed to shake like a bowlful of jelly). “Here comes the fattest man in town,” sang the swing era’s Bob Chester, “He’s more than sixty inches round.” This excess avoirdupois has caused some to wonder how he negotiates the narrow portals of modern chimneys. Child star Jimmy Boyd sang “Santa Got Stuck in the Chimney”; Ella Fitzgerald’s rendition of “Santa Claus Got Stuck in My Chimney” was so lubricious and dripping in double entendres that her record label feared to release it; and Gisele Mackenzie observed that Santa was “Too Fat for the Chimney,” which necessitated her plea to “open the door and let Santa in.” Other novelty songs have added less lovable sins than gluttony to Santa’s account. Drunk driving features in “Santa Got a DWI” (Sherwin Linton), paranoia in “Santa Claus Is Watching You” (Ray Stevens), and mass murder in “The Night Santa Went Crazy” (Weird Al Yankovic).
Popular music about Santa Claus tells us even less about him than do the host of movie portrayals, but it does convey one important thing about us: we love Santa. There is an inescapable affection for the gift-bringer that permeates all of these recordings. We yearn for his Christmas Eve visit; he is the living symbol of giving and expecting nothing in return and this leads us, year after year, to sing about him, to teach these songs to our children, and keep them as part of our seasonal culture. Music and film are vehicles for the mythology – they augment, but have not replaced, the other means by which a society passes on knowledge of what it values and wishes to preserve.
* Miracle on 34th Street may have boosted Christmas sales at Macy’s in the 1940s, but the store suffered a drop in seasonal goodwill in 2004 when they were boycotted by groups who claimed that the chain had banned the use of the phrase “Merry Christmas.”
* Mickey Rooney’s real name was the seasonally appropriate Joe Yule Jr.
* Hootkins earlier achieved film immortality as Jek Porkins (Red Six) in Star Wars.
* Lewis is better known as the lyricist of “Where Did Robinson Crusoe Go with Friday on Saturday Night?” and “Who Played Poker with Pocahontas When John Smith Went Away?”
VII
Does Santa Have a Future?
A Russian greeting card shows a troika of spacecraft pulling Santa Claus and his sleigh. Will Santa survive the twenty-first century and carry gifts to other planets? (photo credit 7.1)
In 1894, the Englishman Sir Edward Strachey mused on his nation’s peculiar Christmas customs and wondered whether there was any purpose in perpetuating some of these old observances in light of the many changes that were taking place in Victorian society. He concluded:
There is, I believe, some real beneficial use in all such traditions as long as they live, and if it is so, it is our business and duty to keep them alive; but they are for the most part perishable in their very nature. They die because they have done all that it was in them to do, and also that they may make room for new and better forms of the old life. We must bury the dead thing out of the way, not pretend that it is still alive and galvanize it into a sham appearance of life. We make many blunders, no doubt; we allow to perish, or even ourselves destroy, many things which still had life in them, and we go on trying to keep many things alive long after they are dead, and have become a nuisance to every one, including ourselves.
It is doubtful Santa Claus ever gave much thought to his mortality. All that exercise gained in scaling chimneys and handling heavy sacks of gifts had left him in peak physical condition. He had outgrown his dwarfish origins to become a fine upstanding gentleman, the pre-eminent Christmas figure in North America and increasingly popular in Europe. He had branched out from the literary field and was finding employment in the advertising industry; a century of involvement in new and exciting mass media would lie before him. American films and books and soldiers would take his image around the planet. This burgeoning influence, however, was not without cost. By mid-century, hostile forces had been aroused that would challenge Santa, and these challenges have continued into the new millennium. Given the strength of this opposition, it is reasonable to inquire, Is Santa Claus’s future as an important cultural figure in jeopardy?
It should come as no surprise that the first of these armies arrayed against Saint Nick were the forces of international Bolshevism, sworn enemies of religion, capitalism, and all opiates of the people. After the October Revolution, Soviet Com
munists had moved to attack religion’s place in the hearts of Russians. As part of this drive, which saw the seizure of churches, the destruction of icons, the melting of church bells for industrial purposes, and the imprisonment of thousands of priests, the celebration of Christmas was banned. Correspondents in Moscow reported that anyone attempting to sell Christmas trees was arrested, entertainers who took part in Christmas programs were expelled from their unions, and children were entertained on December 25 with anti-religious movies and concerts. Authorities sought to replace Christmas with festivities focused on the New Year and to displace gift-bringing Saint Nicholas with one Ded Moroz, Grandfather Frost, who was sometimes accompanied by the Frost Maiden and the New Year’s Boy. When the Red Army occupied Eastern Europe, native Christmas figures such as the Christ child, Saint Nicholas, and angels were similarly frowned upon. In 1952, the Czechoslovakian news agency reported that “Dada Moroz will arrive in Prague December 1. He brings young Czech Communists a message of greetings from the Soviet young pioneers and will tell Prague children about the happy life of young builders of communism in the Soviet Union. That’s why adults as well as children await his arrival with great excitement and joy.” To compensate for the abolition of Saint Nicholas and Christmas, “New Year’s tree festivals” were introduced, marked by the readings of Stalin’s works and the radio broadcast of such holiday fare as “Right Social Democracy – Fifth Wheel of the Wagon of American Warmongers.” (Lest it be thought that being an enemy of communism made Santa an automatic friend of capitalism, note that a bank in Muskegon, Michigan, drew hostile attention in 1949 when its billboard advertising campaign trumpeted, “THERE IS NO SANTA CLAUS – WORK – EARN – SAVE.” The bank’s president went on to link Santa to some kind of national moral decline, saying, “The myth of Santa Claus is far-reaching and implies a nation of people who seem to accept a Santa Claus with headquarters in Washington.”)