Midwest Memo
A Santa's hat
by Alan Shultz

What is it about a Santa's hat that makes just about anyone grin?

You see them all over these days - on tough guys and sweet gals and all kinds of folks in-between. Nobody is too old or too young to don a Santa's hat and there seems to be something universally jolly about seeing these unique head toppers.

I was in the elevator the other day when a pizza delivery guy got on at another floor. The fellow was stern and not saying a word. But there he was in this red and white furry hat with the tassel on the end.

"Love the hat," I said.

The pizza guy broke out in a grin. He didn't even say anything. But then, when he got off on his floor he gave a little "ho, ho" as he made his exit. There's just some kind of magic twinkle in that hat.

Truth be told, I've already received my Christmas gift this year. And a Santa hat is featured in it.

No, I didn't steal it from underneath the tree.

Nor did I buy it for myself.

It's a photo. It's a photo of seven smiling adults and one screaming, crying infant. The screaming, crying infant is our first grandchild, Julia Grace, and but for her arrival on the scene we might not have visited Santa this year.

But we did, and we got a picture to prove it.

To get Julia Grace's parents, Liz and Jake, her two uncles, Jeff and Brad, the grandparents, Deb and me, and Santa himself all together at the same time on a workday, well that was some kind of seasonal miracle itself. The miracle required a lot of cell phone calls, long waiting in line, some pushing through the line, and some luck.

No wonder Julia Grace had had it by the time the photographer told us, "smile."

It's been our Christmas tradition for years to meet up with the big bearded man in red at the former Marshall Field's, now Macy's, on State Street in Chicago. We have a couple of decades of photos of our three, Liz, Brad and Jeff. When Jake married Liz, he gracefully consented to the family tradition and now little Julia Grace has joined in.

The line, or cattle call, to see Santa at Macy's involves a maze through a wonderland intended to distract you from how long a wait one is going to experience. If you've been to Disney World you have been in this kind of a line.

The maze is somewhat darkened for effect. You have huge nutcrackers in there, and there's music and moving puppets and all kinds of Christmas displays to view. Santa is a long ways away at the end of the "enchanted" maze.

First into the maze went grandmother and child, soon to be joined by the proud parents themselves. Me, I'm out front looking for the uncles, fielding cell phone calls. Call me mission control.

Along comes Jeff - and I push him into the maze with instructions to find the group - which he apparently does. At least he doesn't resurface on this end.

Auto traffic is Brad's obstacle

and it looks like maybe he won't make it. I better find the crowd and settle for a photo minus one.

I attempt to enter the artificial winter wonderland. I push, I elbow and budge my way into the maze, but I am thwarted by the crowd that fills the crooked, bending passageway from side-to-side. I'm in big trouble.

I go around back to the do not enter area. I figure maybe I could pull this off without anyone calling security. Santa has good security, I'm not getting in.

Out front again, Brad has finally arrived and a hard to decipher message on my cell says the moment is near.

So Brad, fresh from fighting traffic, takes on the crowd in the maze. I guess I never realized he could be so - well - pushy. All the while, following close behind, I'm announcing to anyone who will listen that it's my granddaughter up front as we push and press forward.

Suddenly, we're there, all together and we step up to meet the man in red and say "cheese." Well, seven out of eight of us say "cheese"

The picture is quite a Christmas present.

And next time, I'll be the one wearing a Santa's hat. That way while pushing through the crowd I can claim....

"official business."