Fat & Funny

"e;Not every old man turns into Walter Matthau or Jack Lemmon. Grumpy is not an option, here"e;, cites the author. "e;Many old men enjoy being funny, old guys, who like to laugh a lot and jolly about"e;. If any of this pertains to you, you've come to the right place. Read on. There are only two requirements to being a professional Santa Claus: 1) be fat and 2) be funny. If you can check these two boxes - and you re an old, chunky guy with a white beard it s possible to make a little extra cash for your holidays. You will also have a whole lot of fun. If any of this rings true with you, read on. This gig is quite seasonal. On Dec. 26, it s over. Then, you go on an eleven-month vacation, until next Thanksgiving. You will read about large, drunken, corporate bashes in fancy restaurants. You ll read about small, intimate family gatherings around the fireplace. Both are wonderfully festive, in their own ways. You will read about impromptu encounters in the frozen food section of the grocery store, as well as the parking lot of the post office. You will read about the ups (cheerful children, wanting new bikes) and the downs (saddened children, wanting their parents to stop fighting). You will read about sparkling kids. You ll read about obnoxious adults. For the past decade, Supe has portrayed Santa, treating it as a legitimate, lucrative gig. Here, he shares many of the nice (as well as, not so nice) things he s seen with his mirror-image view through Kringle s eyeglasses. Many times, he sees you before you see him. But, if you want to try your hand at being him - and you want to take it seriously - it s a cool and rewarding side job. Read on, prancer. Read on, comet. Read on, reader.