Christmas greetings from Rudolph
Lori Borgman | Monday, Dec 13, 2010
Dear Friends,
As if being stuck with this bulbous red nose and being the constant butt of
jokes isn’t punishment enough, I drew the short straw and got stuck writing the
Christmas letter on behalf of the reindeer this year.
Actually, it’s been a pretty eventful year up here at the North Pole.
Vixen did a lot of reading and hitched herself to the global warming
bandwagon. She was so sure the North Pole was going to become a tropical
vacation destination that she ordered a swimsuit. It was the first one ever
delivered to the North Pole. (Vixen says to tell you it was a snazzy two-piece
Hawaiian print with a tummy control panel.)
There was an unfamiliar slush on the streets about a month ago. Even the
deniers thought it was global warming, but it turned out prankster elves had
dumped a truckload of Ice Melt. Of course, Vixen didn’t know that. She got all
excited, put on that fussy little swimsuit, slathered Scandinavian Sunblock SPF
60 all over her thick hairy hide, threw herself in one of those webbed lawn
chairs -- and developed some wicked pneumonia.
If deliveries seemed slow last year, it was due to extra weight at the back
of the line. Donner had bariatric surgery this spring with great results. He’s
down to 360 pounds and doing Pilates three times a week.
In May, Dancer flew south to audition for “Dancing With the Stars.” She was
crushed when they told her they didn’t take hoofers. We all thought she was a
shoe-in with that tango routine and the poinsettia clenched between her teeth.
Cupid is still a serial dater. Social networking has opened up a plethora of
opportunities. He virtually lives on Snowbook, posting inane things like, “Cupid
feels alone in the crowd,” and “Looking for love.” He recently met a nice
Caribou from Alaska -- sturdy legs, blonde with a brown tail, working on a grad
degree in reindeer studies. Looks like a keeper to us, but the real question is
whether Cupid is ready to put on the bridle and settle down.
Dasher and Prancer celebrated their silver anniversary this year with a
luxury ice cruise through the Nordic countries, featuring Wayne Newton at the
piano bar. A few months later Prancer delivered two more calves! That brings
them to a total of 52.
They never let anyone forget that their herd has produced 39 Polar Scholars,
franchised 27 Deery-Queens and wrote and produced the hit musical Ice Caps.(As
a personal aside, their herd may look good on paper, but not a one of them can
fly and chew gum at the same time.)
Comet’s dreams of being the first reindeer to live on the space station were
dashed when NASA announced plans to shut down the space shuttle program. He now
writes an astrology column for the Polar Express.
Blitzen suffered severe hearing loss last year after pocketing iPods from the
toy production line, downloading tunes and cranking the volume. He has terrible
ringing in his ears -- a case of tinselitis -- and can’t hear when the boss man
yells names to prepare for takeoff. Always a pace or two behind the rest, he
throws our entire flight pattern out of formation.
As for me, I am weary of all this night work. When I consulted Mr. C about
switching to days, he threw his head back and said, “Ho, ho, ho.” We’ll see
whose laughing at this time next year, little big man. Once the 401k bounces
back, I’m looking at early retirement, getting an RV, loading up the missus and
exploring national parks in the lower 48.
In the meantime, Merry Christmas and Happy New Year! Yours, Rudolph
