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My Conversation With Santa About Social Media

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I was busy helping Santa deliver presents all over the world on Christmas Eve, so took the last few days off to rest and recover! It’s nice to be back on the blog.

We (Santa and I) had a lot of time to chat inbetween chimneys, so I asked him what he thought about Social Media.

“Ho ho ho!” Santa chortled. Then he whipped Dancer, Dasher et al. on. “Faster! Faster, you damn beasts!” he roared. Then, to me: “I have more presents than ever to get to all the good boys and girls, and these lazy curs are slower than ever.”

I sensed he was avoiding an answer. “But surely Santa,” I insisted (we were high in the sky somewhere over Pennsylvania), “you have a view on Social Media. You know: Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, blogs and all the rest.”

“We didn’t have them in my day,” Santa finally replied, “and the world seemed to go on. In fact, in many ways, it was better.”

“How so?” I pressed on.

“Well, the children were happier,” he said. “They didn’t worry as much. And they minded their manners and listened to their parents. Nowadays, if you say something to a child, they’re more likely to be staring into a blue screen, and not even hear you.”

I thought to myself, Well, Santa’s getting on. He must be, what? 800 years old. He probably thought movable type was bad. So I had to cut him some slack. It would have been wrong to expect the old fellow to be up to date on S.M.

Still, I couldn’t resist plying on. “Santa, have you ever used email?”

Santa snorted. “Email? Now, why the Devil would I do that? I talk the old-fashioned way: with my mouth.”

“I take it you’ve never tweeted?” I asked.

“Tweet? That’s the noise a damn bird makes.”

“Did you know, Santa, that tweeting is considered a necessary part of the skill set that employers look for in new hires?”

“Thank you, young Jedi. I did not know that,” Santa replied. “But then, I don’t intend to ever apply for a job again. This gig”–and he motioned with his hand, to the reindeer pulling us ahead, and to the giant sleigh behind us, groaning under the weight of Christmas presents–“is my last hurrah, believe me. Pretty soon, Mrs. Claus and I are going to retire to our condo in Playa del Carmen. Have you ever seen me in a Speedo?”

“Oh, but who will deliver the presents to all the good little boys and girls when you retire?” The thought made me shudder.

“Maybe those bloggers,” Santa suggested. “After all, they’re just wasting their time anyway. They might as well put their efforts into something that actually does some good.”

As a staunch supporter of the bloggers, particularly the wine bloggers, I felt it necessary to rise to their defense. “Santa, I don’t know why you say that the bloggers are wasting their time. Some of them are very helpful.”

“How is that?” Santa shot me an inquisitorial look. “Name one.”

“Well,” I stammered, “ for instance, there’s ___, who reviews every wine he tastes at every trade tasting he goes to–and he goes to them all, with his little tablet conputer–and then he posts his reviews on his blog for all the world to see. At last count, he’d reviewed more than a million wines, each in less than 140 characters.”

“And does anyone care?” Santa asked, with more than a trace of sarcasm.

“I can’t say that they do,” I had to admit.

“Exactly!” my bearded friend exclaimed triumphantly. Then he yelled to his reindeer. “Rudolf! Donner! Blitzen! Have you ever heard of this wine blogger?” The only response from the animals was Comet raising his right rear leg and emptying his bladder. We got hit with a warm spray of moisture.

“I hate when that happens,” Santa said, wiping his face.

Suddenly he changed tack. “I don’t want you think I’m too old to appreciate Social Media though,” he confided, with a wink. “Actually, it’s a great help to me.”

“How so?”

“I use it to determine which of the world’s children have been naughty or nice,” he said. “That used to be a real challenge, believe me. I have a pretty good network of spies around the world, keeping track of the children–after all, what do you think my Elves do all year when they’re not wrapping presents? I’ll tell you what. They’re hiding under children’s beds, watching and listening to everything they say and do, and reporting back to me. Before the advent of email and Social Media, I had to depend on my reindeer to transport their messages by paper. And you know reindeer. [Here, he leaned in close and whispered in my ear.] Not the brightest bulbs in the chandelier.

“But with the advent of smart phones, my Elves can now report to me directly, through my Intelligence Center which is located beneath the North Pole. It is constantly staffed with new Elves I hire right out of Elf School. In fact, I believe a few of them are ex-bloggers. Of course, that means my reindeer aren’t getting as much exercise as they used to, which is why they’re getting a little plump.” At this, Santa giggled, and, patting his own ample belly, he added, “but I’m hardly one to criticize.”

“Aha!” I said. “So you do recognize that Social Media has its uses!”

“Of course I do!” Santa exclaimed. “It gives the children hope.”

“Hope?” I wondered what Santa meant.

“Yes, hope. It makes them feel that somehow, it will make their lives better. And that is the Spirit of Christmas, isn’t it?”

I had to think for a moment about that. “Well, I suppose it is. But how does Social Media give the children hope?”

“Look at this like this,” Santa began. “The world can be very bleak. You’re born into it, against your will, dragged literally kicking and screaming from a warm, safe place into a cold, noisy one filled with impersonal and dangerous forces. That must be a terrible experience for a child.”

Recalling my own childhood, I considered that, yes, it must be a terrible experience.

Santa continued. “But Social Media, with its promise of connecting us into a circle of friends and followers, breaks that impersonality, and gives people the impression they’re part of a broader family of love and support. That is a wonderful thing.”

I decided to play Devil’s Advocate. “But Santa, this ‘family of love’ you refer to is a complete illusion! As you yourself said, it’s an ‘impression,’ not a reality. There is no family, just images on a screen, most of them from people you wouldn’t know if you bumped into them on the street. And in fact, Social Media actually and ironically is one of those ‘impersonal and dangerous forces’ you referred to earlier. It cuts people off from the real world and pushes them into a make-believe digital one.”

“Perhaps,” Santa mused, rubbing his beard between two chubby fingers. “But who are you to take away from the children that which gives them hope?” Suddenly, his voice sounded angry. “Say, you’re not one of those Social Media haters, are you? I ought to throw you right out of my sleigh!”

“No, no!” I insisted. We were over the North Atlantic. “I don’t hate Social Media. I use it all the time! But isn’t it weird, Santa,” I continued. “When we began this conversation, it was you who was dissing Social Media. Now, you’re defending it.”

“This is the twenty-first century,” Santa said. “You can’t expect me to be consistent.”

“You know, Santa, being of such strong opinions, you should start your own blog. You could go to the Bloggers Conference.”

“What’s that?” Santa inquired.

“It’s where the bloggers all go someplace together, drink a lot and try to get laid.”

“Sounds like my Elves’ break room,” Santa observed.

“And if you’re a really successful blogger,” I added, “it could pay off with a hefty ROI.”

“Hmm,” Santa replied. He seemed to be thinking. “You know, when I retire, my income will fall–and by the way, I don’t have a pension. That’s something Mrs. Claus is concerned with, because she likes the finer things in life. Don’t get me started on her American Express card! Oi. But I don’t know anything about blogging. Would you teach me?”

“Not really,” I demurred. “But Santa, there are many fine Social Media consultants who would be pleased to help you learn the tricks of the trade.” And here, I mentioned Mr. ___.

“Hah!” Santa snorted. “I know exactly who he is. Last Christmas, I delivered a book to him, ‘101 Ways to Make Money At  Social Media.’ And #31 was “’Become a Social Media consultant, and then write a book on How to Make Money Using Social Media.’”

“Who sent him the book?” I asked.

“No one,” Santa grinned. “He ordered it from Amazon.” And at that, we both laughed so hard, it threw the startled reindeer off-course, and we found ourselves over Central Africa.

“You know, Santa, for an old guy, you’re pretty cool,” I told him.

“Thanks, young Jedi. For an upstart, you are, too.” And that was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

 

Santas-wink

  1. In this corner we have deep expertise with no ability to get that to the people and in that corner we have unlimited distribution of extremely low-value content. Maybe Santa ponders less about channels and more about audiences and their problems. Maybe Santa looks at his sackfuls of toys and realizes that they’re filled with the same lead-painted dolls, Chia Pets and 21 Jump Street action figures he’s been delivering for years. Sure, the Uzbeki knock-offs from the SM troll Santas are even worse… but for most of the good little children out there, it makes no difference.

    And just maybe Santa doesn’t even care about the good little children. After all, Santa doesn’t really deliver toys – children give him hives. Instead, Santa is the judge of toymakers and toy sellers who use Santa’s magic numbers to convince the children to spend their parent’s hard-earned money on Santa’s blessed toys. King-maker, trend-setter? Yes. Good-hearted beacon of truth for toy-hungry children? Probably no more so than the Grinch from Monkton.

  2. Hey kids: On what other wine blog will you read about Uzbeki knock-offs, SM trolls, hives and the Grinch from Monkton? No other blog, that’s what! Thanks Michael Brill for keeping the comments section lively.

  3. As I was just walking my Chihuahua-mix reindeer, I realized that I had mixed up Santa and Grinch references. Santa is large, has a wife and is filled with good tidings such as “Bravo!” The Grinch is more contemplative, smirky and slimmer. Santa gorges himself on whole geese while the Grinch basically shrugs and eats what’s at the bottom of his bowl of noodles in Chinatown. Sorry about the mix-up!

  4. doug wilder says:

    I hope Gus got his walk BEFORE you sat down to write this one, Steve. I was worried he might burst if he didn’t pull ‘A Comet’. Happy New Year :)

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