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A New Twist On The 'Santaland Diaries' Tradition

Dec 25, 2018
Originally published on December 25, 2018 5:56 am

Humorist David Sedaris' annual reading from "Santaland Diaries" has become an NPR institution — it debuted on Morning Edition in 1992 — and for many listeners, hearing from Crumpet the Macy's department store elf each year signals the holiday season as much as mistletoe and candy canes.

This year we asked you to pretend YOU are an elf in Santaland. We wondered what, in one sentence, your imaginary shift is like and what your imaginary elf is named.

Here, from heartwarming to devilish, are some of your submissions. One imagines a more updated, modern Santaland — one with cocoa baristas and the Internet. Another cherishes a small, lovely moment. And others take a nod from Crumpet and keep it decidedly un-merry. To hear from Crumpet himself, click the play button.

Snowball Ivyberry the elf: I have to wake up extra early and make all the xylophones and recorders for the little girls and boys, all while singing merry Christmas carols and leading the elf concert hall productions! — Hayley Groff from Lansdale, Penn.

Fancypants the elf: Initial nerves give way to joy as I walk into Santaland, which gives way to anger as a screaming child's lollipop gets stuck in my (real) hair — and she wants it back. — Anita Embleton from Lafayette, Calif.

Kimber the elf: I am Kimber, the hot chocolate barista, and I must mix the perfect chocolate and marshmallows, then add to precisely warmed milk, so it is ready for Santa and all the elves in the breakroom. — Kim Noonan from Austin, Texas.

Pete the elf: It has been 117 days since I was selected to test the jack-in-the-boxes, and this day shall bring no surprise. — Luke Chirhart from Libertyville, Ill.

Holly Joy the elf: Kids kept kicking me in the leg as I ushered them onto fake Santa's lap, so I started whispering things like, "That isn't the real Santa." — Karlee Hendrix from Johnson City, Tenn.

Chestnut Jollyspice the elf: The worst part of my shift was when the Wi-Fi went down and no one could post their pictures with Santa on Instagram. — Jacob Hagman from Athens, Ohio.

Trinket the ticklish the elf: Mirthfully, I lit another cigarette for Santa as he told the children the truth. — Kris Niblock from Chicago.

Jingle Sparklebum the elf: In hindsight, I should've told someone about the child with head lice before he nestled his head in Santa's beard. — Armando Montes from Austin, Texas.

Moppy the elf: Christmas magic doesn't keep these restrooms clean: I do. — Josh Pease from Cleveland, Ohio.

Lum the elf: Elfi, my co-elf, will not stop singing "Jingle Bells," and I am slowly losing my mind. — John Schiffbauer from Draper, Utah.

Harriette the elf: In all the chaos I noticed the mother and child patiently waiting in line and signing to each other and hoped Santa knew the sign for "I love you" like I did. — Carol Gronstal from Carroll, Iowa.

Laura Roman contributed to this story.

Copyright 2020 NPR. To see more, visit https://www.npr.org.


If you think you're stressed out during the holidays, try being one of Santa's little helpers. Before he became a bestselling writer and humorist, David Sedaris worked as a department store elf. Turns out good tidings of comfort and joy are not all they're cracked up to be.

Fortunately, for us, back in 1992, Sedaris wrote about the downside of the holidays in a collection of fanciful stories called the "Santaland Diaries." So here, once again, is our MORNING EDITION holiday tradition, David Sedaris as Crumpet the elf.

DAVID SEDARIS: (Reading) I wear green velvet knickers, a forest-green velvet smock and a perky, little hat decorated with spangles. This is my work uniform.


SEDARIS: (Reading) I've spent the last several days sitting in a crowded, windowless Macy's classroom undergoing the first phases of elf training. You can be an entrance elf, a watercooler elf, a bridge elf, train elf, maze elf, island elf, magic window elf, usher elf, cash register elf or exit elf.

We were given a demonstration of various positions in action, acted out by returning elves who were so onstage and goofy that it made me a little sick to my stomach. I don't know that I could look anyone in the eye and exclaim, oh, my goodness, I think I see Santa, or, can you close your eyes and make a very special Christmas wish? Everything these elves say seems to have an exclamation point on the end of it. It makes one's mouth hurt to speak with such forced merriment. It embarrasses me to hear people talk this way. I think I'll be a low-key sort of elf.

Twenty-two thousand people came to see Santa today, and not all of them were well-behaved. Today, I witnessed fistfights and vomiting and magnificent tantrums. The back hallway was jammed with people. There was a line for Santa and a line for the women's bathroom. And one woman, after asking me a thousand questions already, asked, which is the line for the women's bathroom? And I shouted that I thought it was the line with all the women in it. She said, I'm going to have you fired. I had two people say that to me today - I'm going to have you fired. Go ahead. Be my guest. I'm wearing a green velvet costume. It doesn't get any worse than this.

Who do these people think they are? I'm going to have you fired. And I want to lean over and say, I'm going to have you killed.


SEDARIS: (Reading) The overall cutest elf is a fellow from Queens named Ritchie. His elf name is Snowball, and he tends to ham it up with the children, sometimes tumbling down the path to Santa's house. I generally gag when elves get that cute, but Snowball is hands-down adorable. You want to put him in your pocket.

Yesterday, Snowball and I worked as Santa elves, and I got excited when he started saying things like, I'd follow you to Santa's house any day, Crumpet. It made me dizzy - his flirtation. By mid-afternoon, I was running into walls. By late afternoon, Snowball had cooled down. By the end of our shift, we were in the bathroom changing our clothes, and all of the sudden, we were surrounded by five Santas and three other elves. All of them were guys that Snowball had been flirting with. Snowball just leads elves on - elves and Santas.


SEDARIS: (Reading) This morning, I worked as an exit elf, telling people in a loud voice, this way out of Santaland.

A woman was standing at one of the cash registers paying for her pictures while her son lay beneath her, kicking and heaving, having a tantrum. The woman said, Riley, if you don't start behaving yourself, Santa's not going to bring you any of those toys you asked for. The child said, he is too going to bring me toys, liar. He already told me.

The woman grabbed my arm and said, you there, Elf, tell Riley here that if he doesn't start behaving immediately, then Santa's going to change his mind and bring him coal for Christmas. I said that Santa changed his policy and no longer traffics in coal. Instead, if you're bad, he comes to your house and steals things. I told Riley that if he didn't behave himself, Santa was going to take away his TV and all his electrical appliances and leave him in the dark.

The woman got a worried look on her face and said, all right, that's enough. I said, he's going to take your car and your furniture and all of your towels and blankets and leave you with nothing. The mother said, no, that's enough, really.


SEDARIS: (Reading) This afternoon, I was stuck being photo elf for Santa-Santa. Santa-Santa has an elaborate little act for the children. He'll talk to them and give a hearty chuckle and ring his bells. And then he asks them to name their favorite Christmas carol. Santa then asks if they'll sing it for him. The children are shy and don't want to sing out loud, so Santa-Santa says, oh, little elf, little elf, help young Brenda here sing that favorite carol of hers.

Late in the afternoon, a child said she didn't know what her favorite Christmas carol was. Santa-Santa suggested "Away In A Manger." The girl agreed to it but didn't want to sing because she didn't know the words. Santa-Santa said, oh, little elf, little elf, come sing "Away In A Manger" for us. It didn't seem fair that I should have to solo, so I sang it the way Billie Holiday might have sang if she'd put out a Christmas album. (Singing) Away in a manger, no crib for a bed, the little Lord Jesus lay down his sweet head. Santa-Santa did not allow me to finish.


SEDARIS: (Reading) This evening, I was sent

to be a photo elf. Once a child starts crying, it's all over. The parents had planned to send these pictures as cards or store them away until the child is grown and can lie, claiming to remember the experience. Tonight, I saw a woman slap and shake her crying child. She yelled, Rachel, get on that man's lap and smile or I'll give you something to cry about. Then she sat Rachel on Santa's lap, and I took the picture, which supposedly means, on paper, that everything is exactly the way it's supposed to be - that everything is snowy and wonderful.

It's not about the child or Santa or Christmas or anything, but the parents' idea of a world they cannot make work for them.


KING: That was David Sedaris reading from his classic essay the "Santaland Diaries." Transcript provided by NPR, Copyright NPR.