Dreaming of a Black Christmas

Yes, Santa’s now black
We have Obama to thank
But his job’s pretty stressful
And to that, we must be frank

Just like the president
The world hates his blackness
But Santa doesn’t care
Blaming the hate on their wackiness
…..

Wait. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We can’t just announce that there’s a black Santa without first providing some of the back story. So before we go any further with our rendition of this Christmas classic, let’s take a moment to give you a little background on Jolly Saint Junior (OK, I know that threw you off, but for the sake of time, I’ll give you the short version. You see, Black Santa’s biological father is Leroy Johnson Sr., and from the moment his first son was born, he knew he wanted him named after him. So while the world affectionately calls him “Black Santa,” the entire Johnson family back in Tupelo, Miss., still refers to him as Junior, and that will never change.
Now back to our regularly scheduled story …

When you consider the difficult cards that Black Santa was dealt, his job was destined to be tough from the beginning. The White Santa who held the job before him ran Christmas into the ground, mainly by giving mall credits to the rich, and fighting pointless wars with Thanksgiving and Valentine’s Day. Things were pretty bleak.
But then Black Santa arrived on the scene, and it was almost as if a shot of optimism was dispersed throughout the atmosphere. Everywhere you turned people were singing Christmas carols, and even T.I. promised that he’d finally stay out of jail.
Sadly, the thrill of those early days is gone. T.I. is back in jail, and the optimism that greeted Black Santa has turned into pointed criticism. Nowadays, everybody’s got a complaint about the job that Black Santa is doing.

So with the weight of the world on his shoulders, Black Santa trudged into the mall on an overcast Monday before Christmas to take up his post, and spread Christmas cheer once again. As he punched the time clock, he smiled as he saw a familiar face, his trusted elf, Emmanuel.
Emmanuel was once a noted television star, and his show “Webster” made him a household name back in the ‘80s. But those days are long gone, and Emmanuel now spends his time fighting for Christmas alongside Black Santa.
“Why hello there Emmanuel,” Black Santa bellowed. “Have you been a good little boy this year? If so, Santa is going to give you a growth spurt. Would you like that?”
Emmanuel, clearly accustomed to the short joke and the accompanying banter, quickly responded without missing a beat. “I had a growth spurt last night when I was with your wife … she didn’t tell you about me?”
The two old friends exploded in laughter, and embraced in a hearty hug. “How’s our calendar looking today?” Black Santa inquired. “Are there lots of people who need to talk to Santa?”

“It’s not as busy as it usually is this time of year,” Emmanuel responded. “I guess people just don’t love Christmas like they used to.”
There was a moment of silence between the two old friends. “Now don’t go clouding your head with that foolish talk,” Black Santa implored. “Today is going to be a great day. I can just feel it. Now perk up and send the first person up. We don’t want you scaring customers away with that surly disposition.”
As Emmanuel hopped down from his booster seat and scurried away to open the doors, Black Santa said a quick silent prayer. “May I be better today than I was yesterday. Amen.”
As soon as he opened his eyes from his prayer, up walked his first customer. Only it wasn’t a child … it was Dan Gilbert, the owner of the Cleveland Cavaliers.
“Hey, Black Santa,” Gilbert said with a sheepish grin. “Are you ready for me yet?”
Black Santa motioned for him to come over, and Gilbert hopped onto his lap.

“So what do you want for Christmas?” Black Santa inquired, visibly disturbed by the fact that Gilbert was sitting in his lap.
“Well, this year hasn’t been kind to me and the city of Cleveland,” he began while unrolling a scroll-like list of requests. “So I was wondering if for Christmas you could cause any of the following injuries to happen to LeBron James.” He passed the list to Black Santa.
“I can’t do any of this stuff,” Black Santa responded. “That’s not what Christmas is about. Besides, I’m not even sure if herpes-gono-syphil-AIDS is a real disease. You mean to tell there isn’t anything that I can do for you that doesn’t include causing LeBron James to suffer?”
Gilbert thought for a moment. “No, that’s all we want for Christmas,” he answered flatly. “Well if you can’t injure him, can you at least give him gingivitis, or get one of his side chicks pregnant?”

Black Santa shook his head in disbelief. “Please leave.”
Gilbert skulked away. As soon as he was out of sight, up walked R&B star Fantasia.
“I’m so happy to see you Black Santa,” she squealed, as she hopped up in his lap. “I need your help.”
Black Santa genuinely cared for Fantasia, and wanted to see her happy, so he was willing to go out of his way to make her dreams come true on Christmas. “OK Fantasia, what do you need?”
“Well, for Christmas, I want a man of my own who doesn’t belong to someone else,” she confessed. “I’m just tired of dealing with married men. There’s too much drama involved with that.”
Black Santa gently grabbed Fantasia’s shoulders, and turned her towards him. “As much as I want to help you, that wish doesn’t fall within the realm of my powers.”
Fantasia looked away, trying to hide the tears that were forming in her eyes.
“But there is someone who can make that dream come true,” he continued. “You can. It’s time for you to make the decision that you are no longer going to give yourself to men who are married or involved with other women. Not only is it wrong, but I don’t think that your finances can withstand another lawsuit.”
Fantasia took a moment to let the words sink in, and finally nodded her head in agreement. You’re right Black Santa. I can do this.”
She then hugged him, and walked away. Well, that went pretty smoothly — unfortunately that was the sole moment of the day where things went as planned.
Throughout the day Black Santa saw and heard requests from a steady stream of people who had found themselves on the wrong side of the news in 2010. From Eddie Long asking for some magic potion to make young boys disappear, to Charlie Rangel asking for a paper shredder, the day was just filled with people with a wide array of problems.
When the clock finally struck 5 p.m., Santa let out an exasperated sigh, and glanced up towards the heavens as a sign of thanks. “OK Emmanuel, let’s call it a day,” he said, while reaching into his bag and pulling out a small silver flask. “You know, I’ve been sober for over 10 years, but after listening to everyone’s problems today, I think it’s time I reacquainted myself with my old friend, Jack Daniels.”

Emmanuel paused for a moment, and then flatly asked, “If you haven’t had a drink in 10 years, then why are you carrying a flask?”
Black Santa looked down at Emmanuel, and let out a laugh. “Well, the White Santa before me offered a word of advice before he left this post. He said to always keep some alcohol on hand, because this job will drive you to drink. So ever since then, I’ve always kept it in my pocket. I guess he was right about one thing.”
The two shared a final laugh before locking the doors and going their separate ways.
“See you tomorrow Emmanuel.”

“Good night Black Santa,” Emmanuel replied. “Even though people never say it, I’m proud of you. Keep your head up.”
And with that, Black Santa smiled and walked home. He was committed to the job, even if the people didn’t believe in him anymore. Maybe things will change for the better someday. Only time will tell.
Goodnight world. Oh, and Merry Christmas from Black Santa, and the entire rolling out staff. Enjoy the holidays.