Circa: 1959. The place: Macy’sHerald Square. Here I am, your faithful and eccentric blogger (yes, I’m that old), photographed when he first visited Santa Claus. My expression of innocent incredulity reflects the claustrophobic glitter and glare of the crowded faces and noise, of anxious kids and harried parents, which surrounded me beyond the frame and encapsulated me within it.
I was trying to figure out the nature of this man’s game, obviously a gentleman of wealth and taste…and probably drunk. Going through the routine-prompted responses to “What’s your name, little boy?” to the crucial “What do you want for Christmas?,” my shy and reserved nature may have kicked-in and drifted-away on the flash of a camera and on the waves of light-speed to consider the following:
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