Secretly I am 8

I love this. Beyond all reason. It just makes me happy.

Here’s why:

- Three words: Doo. Wop. Christmas.

- None of them have eyes.

- When the solo reindeer hits a high note, his tail wags.

- Santa has absurdly small feet.

- Santa has a tired old swinger’s panache when it comes to tossing microphones. He probably founded the Rat Pack.

- They all – Santa, solo reindeer, back-up reindeer – maintain a level of Elvis-would-envy-it cool that I have decided (after much study) comes from their totally nonchalant approach to caroling.

- Santa permits himself a toothy grin toward the end, when they all start to bring it on home.

- The understated finale.

I’m telling you. Totally irresistible. On some level I have never progressed beyond the age of 8. My Inner 8 Year Old never tires of this.

Acting this out with a few friends in the privacy of my own office every holiday season is one of my favorite festive traditions. We take turns being Santa or the solo reindeer. Fair’s fair.