Life of a retired elf

By Kurt Wagner

Contrary to popular belief, Santa Claus doesn't spend the month leading up to Christmas building children's toys or checking his list twice. He doesn't spend it prepping the reindeer or even refueling his sleigh. Believe it or not, he doesn't even spend it at the North Pole.

Trust me. I'm a retired Christmas elf.

If you are looking for Santa Claus anytime between Thanksgiving and Christmas, you can find him on the corner of Sixth and Pine in downtown Seattle, taking pictures with families in a Nordstrom display window.

I spent the last two holiday seasons of my high school career working side by side with St. Nick, and remarkably, landing a job with the big man as a trusty sidekick wasn't nearly as taxing as I was afraid it would be. My job description was simple: entertain people while they stood in line for photos and keep the cookie tray and cider thermos at the ready for hungry Santa visitors.

Standing 6 feet 2 inches tall (just south of 7 feet with my elf's hat on), I was Santa's tallest and most enthusiastic helper. I wore my costume proudly and you would have been hard pressed to find a hungry or thirsty Santa visitor while I was on duty.

But when I went away to college, my job as one of Santa's helpers quickly became a thing of the past. I didn't have the time to continue helping with Santa photos because of school and I had to turn in my elf hat and robes for good.

At first, my lack of a holiday job seemed thrilling; I felt a freedom and lack of responsibility that can only come from being unemployed. I relished in the fact that I didn't need to walk through Nordstrom in my elf costume and hat or listen to babies cry all day long because they were scared of Santa. It didn't bother me that somewhere out there a family in line may be in need of cider or cookies with no one to hear their plea.

I was a free elf, and at first, life was great.

But this year, as I sat on my couch all day watching reruns of "Friends" and "The Office," I began to think back on my elf days. Although I loved sleeping in and having the freedom to do what I pleased, I realized that I was missing out on a huge part of what makes the holidays special: Christmas spirit.

There's something uplifting about spending the holiday season in the heart of one of the country's most beautiful cities. I didn't love my job, but I loved the feeling I got when I saw Santa read a little boy or girl's letter or watch as they looked on in amazement at the man who put gifts under their tree every year.

Santa doesn't spend the month leading up to Christmas at the North Pole. But I can think one abnormally tall retired elf who wouldn't have it any other way.