43 Years Ago, Today

Me

On Saturday, March 17, 1973 my family moved from 179 8th Street, in Brooklyn, to Huntington, Long Island. My dad had friends from work help us load the moving truck. One of my dad's friends, who was on the street, loading the truck, was very special. He used to fly up to the North Pole, every December, to help Santa Claus make his toys. He told me I could go with him if my dad said it was OK.

I ran upstairs, to the fourth floor, where my dad was packing and asked, "Dad, can I go with him to the North Pole?"

"Joe, he's kidding. He doesn't really go to the North Pole," said my dad with a laugh.

I ran back downstairs to the moving truck. "My dad says you're joking."

"No, I really help Santa. Sometimes I help him feed his reindeer, too," said the guy.

This was too much. Help Santa make toys and feed the reindeer!?!

Dad

As I ran back and forth between the guy and my dad the story kept growing. Help Santa figure out who's naughty or nice. Review the "Dear Santa" letters, go for rides on Santa's sleigh, and so on. Eventually, I finally gave up. But I was so excited on that day, 43 years ago. I have yet to make the trip to the North Pole to help Santa. One day. In the mean time, I try to not take myself too seriously.