It really makes me rather glad I live in the suburbs.
Actually, it doesn't really matter to me in which neighbourhood Santa Claus hangs out because Santa doesn't come to Britain. It's Father Christmas who brings us our presents, and I would contend that, despite not having the Santa thing going (Santa means saint), Father Christmas is a much nicer, more generous, and truly Christian old man.
I mean, consider the Santa described ad nauseam in J Fred Coots's lyrics:
He's making a list and checking it twice
Gonna find out who's naughty and nice
Santa Claus is comin' to town
He sees you when you're sleeping
He knows when you're awake
He knows if you've been bad or good
So be good for goodness sake
Oh! You'd better watch out, you'd better not cry
Better not pout, I'm telling you why
Santa Claus is comin' to town.
The implication being, of course, that if you're naughty you won't get any presents.
But, as I said, I have no need to worry because Britain's present-bringer, Father Christmas, brings gifts to even the most miserable and tantrum-prone of us. Even someone with a pout like Cyphotilapia frontosa gets something from the sleigh; even someone driven to stark barking madness and dark misanthropy by inane Christmas songs dribbling from speakers in all the public spaces of the country still gets a prezzie.
You feel a flicker of disapproval?
Then consider this: Santa Claus may be called Santa, but getting what you deserve really isn't in the true spirit of Christmas.
painting by Gerard David
Word To Use Today: deserve. This word comes from the Latin deservīre, to serve devotedly.