
Well it's Christmas and we are in dire need around here of a real Christmas story. So I'm going to tell you one of my very favorite ones about how naughty children get a lump of coal for Christmas. And that's a fact, Jack. Check it out.
It was around Christmastime 1963 that my father kept reminding me that if I didn't start behaving myself Santa would bring me a lump of coal in my stocking instead of presents.
Now I turned 8 just weeks before Christmas that year and was still solid in my belief of Santa Claus. And I had heard that story of coal in your stocking from my various aunts and uncles, Mr. King the barber, my friends parents and just about every adult I encountered. But I never met one kid, even ones who misbehaved way more than me, who had EVER gotten coal for Christmas... and we lived in the middle of the richest vein of
bituminous coal ever discovered!
So needless to say I didn't take my father's threat real seriously. But I did try in vain to behave myself a little better as Christmas drew nearer. 'Cause he did seem to have an "in" with Santa Claus based on the stuff I asked for and the stuff I got the previous year. For instance, my dad told me he bought me the race cars and the figure 8 track they raced on because Santa knew I wanted it but he didn't have room in his sleigh. So he asked my dad to get it for me. Seemed logical and very
plausible to me.
Well, 6:00am Christmas morning rolled around and I jumped out of bed to unwrap my presents. I got all kinds of stuff. Almost everything I asked for. And not a lump of coal to be found!
Whoo-
hoo. My parents were still asleep in bed so I wandered over to my stocking where the "little stuff" was. Usually not much really good stuff in the stocking. Maybe some candy, a piece of fruit, some cheap-ass plastic car or something like that.
And what was in there? Well, I'll be damned... A PIECE OF COAL!! In fact a very LARGE piece of coal. Son of a bitch if that Santa Claus didn't know how bad I was after all. I got so much stuff though. It was like he was saying, "Look you're a pretty good kid so I got you some nice presents. But you're a smart-ass little bastard sometimes and a royal pain in your parents ass. So straighten up or it's all coal next year, buddy."
YIKES!!! What
could I do? I felt so bad. I was embarrassed that Santa Claus knew I was bad enough to get coal... when even the bad kids didn't get any. Shit, I couldn't let my parents wake up and find out that Santa brought me coal. Then they wouldn't get me anything either. So, showing signs of the resourceful son-of-a-bitch I grew up to be, I had to think fast. We had a coal furnace, and thus a coal bin downstairs to keep our winter fuel. So I tip-toed down the steps and threw that piece of coal in with the thousands of other pieces of coal in the coal bin. And stealthily tip-toed back up to the living room.
When my dad came out to the living room he asked, "What all did Santa bring you?" So I started showing him this and that and when I got to the last of my long list of presents he said, "You sure he didn't bring you
nothin' else?"
And I replied, "Nope, not unless there's something hidden somewhere."
Then he hit me with, "So you didn't get no lump of coal, huh?"
Son of a bitch. Why did he have to ask me that? Well, he was the last person I wanted to know that I got coal for Christmas so I HAD to lie.
"I guess not. I didn't see none. Only coal I know of is down in the coal bin." I lied.
Then a few years later when I finally discovered that the real Santa Claus is indeed your parents, he confronted me about that lump of coal I got back when I was 8. He had played me like
Stephane Grappelli played a violin. He had my ass hook, line and sinker. It dawned on me that he knew all along cause he was the one who put the damn coal in my stocking to begin with!
Well, my father is gone now. But the last Christmas he was alive he still was telling folks about the year I got coal in my stocking. How I lied about it and tried to cover it up. And how a few years later he nailed my ass with it when I boldly told him there was no Santa Claus. He had forgotten a lot about his life by the time he was 86 but he never forgot that story. And wherever he is in eternity I'm sure he's still laughing about it. Me too.