Santa Claus 2

No known species of reindeer can fly. BUT there are 300,000 species of living organisms yet to be classified, and while most of these are insects and germs, this does not COMPLETELY rule out flying reindeer which only Santa has ever seen.
There are 2 billion children (persons under 18) in the world. BUT since Santa doesn't (appear) to handle the Muslim, Hindu, Jewish and Buddhist children, that reduces the workload to 15% of the total - that's 378 million according to Population Reference Bureau. At an average (census) rate of 3.5 children per household, that's 91.8 million homes. One presumes there's at least one good child in each.
It is well known that Santa has 31 hours of Christmas to work with, thanks to the different time zones and the rotation of the earth ... assuming he travels east to west (which seems logical). This works out to 822.6 visits per second. This is to say that for each Christian household with good children, Santa has 1/1000th of a second to park, hop out of the sleigh, jump down the chimney, fill the stockings, distribute the remaining presents under the tree, then eat whatever snacks have been left, get back up the chimney, get back into the sleigh and move on to the next house.
Assuming that each of these 91.8 million stops are evenly distributed around the earth (which, of course, we know to be false but for the purposes of our calculations we will accept), we are now talking about .78 miles per household, a total trip of 75-1/2 million miles, that's not counting stops to do what most of us must do at least once every 31 hours, plus feeding and etc. This means that Santa's sleigh is moving at 650 miles per second, 3,000 times the speed of sound. For purposes of comparison, the fastest man-made vehicle on earth, the Ulysses space probe, moves at a poky 27.4 miles per second; conventional reindeer can run, tops, 15 miles per hour.
To continue along this line, the payload on the sleigh adds another interesting element. Assuming that each child gets nothing more than a medium-sized lego set, which is 2 pounds, the sleigh is carrying 321,300 tons, not counting Santa, who is invariably described as overweight. On land, conventional reindeer can pull no more than 300 pounds. Even granting that "flying reindeer" (see point #1) could pull TEN TIMES the normal amount, we cannot do the job with 8, or even 9, no, we need 214,200 reindeer ... This increases the payload - not even counting the weight of the sleigh - to 353,430 tons. And again, for comparison, this is four times the weight of the average ocean liner; figure it out yourself.
Now 353,000 tons traveling at 650 miles per second creates enormous air resistance - this will heat the reindeer up in the same fashion as spacecraft re-entering the earth's atmosphere. Each lead pair of reindeer will absorb 14.3 QUINTILLION joules of energy, per second. In short, they will burst into flame almost instantaneously, exposing the reindeer behind them ... and create deafening sonic booms in their wake. The entire reindeer team will be vaporized within 4.26 thousandths of a second ... And Santa meanwhile, will be subjected to centrifugal forces 17,500.06 times greater than gravity. Here's a 250-pound Santa (which seems ludicrously slim) being pinned to the back of his sleigh by 4,315,015 pounds of force.
In conclusion:
If Santa ever did deliver presents on Christmas Eve, he's dead now.

THE MONTH AFTER CHRISTMAS

Twas the month after Christmas, and all through the house,
Nothing would fit me, not even a blouse.
The cookies I'd nibbled, the eggnog I'd taste,
At the holiday parties had gone to my waist.
When I got on the scales there arose such a number,
When I walked to the store (less a walk than a lumber).
I'd remember the marvelous meals I'd prepared;
The gravies and sauces and beef nicely rared.
The wine and the rum balls, the bread and the cheese,
And the way I'd never said, "No thank you, please."
As I dressed myself in my husband's old shirt,
And prepared once again to do battle with dirt.
I said to myself, as I only can,
"You can't spend a winter disguised as a man."
So--away with the last of the sour cream dip,
Get rid of the fruit cake, every cracker and chip.
Every last bit of food that I like must be banished,
"Till all the additional ounces have vanished.
I won't have a cookie--not even a lick,
I'll want only to chew on a long celery stick.
I won't have hot biscuits, or corn bread, or pie,
I'll munch on a carrot and quietly cry.
I'm hungry, I'm lonesome, and life is a bore,
But isn't that what January is for?
Unable to giggle, no longer a riot,
Happy New Year to all and to all a good diet.

SANTA HAS A WEIGHT PROBLEM
Chubby-Face knows that many of those fad diets succeed because they decrease the variety of what one can eat by eliminating some of the foods. Just decreasing variety suppresses appetite. Or, to put it another way, variety increases appetite.
So said developmental psychologist, Judith Rich Harris, (a personal friend of our happy-face-"wonder-what-he's-up-to"-gift-giver) … in a letter to the NY Times, January 25, 2000. She writes that at times when you couldn't possibly eat another bite of turkey, you may still be tempted by a slice of apple pie (or in Buddy's case, two slices).
A similar phenomenon has been observed for another appetite, the male sex drive. It is called "the Coolidge effect," named after a famous (but perhaps apocryphal) anecdote about Calvin Coolidge. The president and his wife were touring a farm and Mrs. Coolidge, pausing at the chicken coop, asked how often the rooster copulated.
"Many times a day" was the reply.
"Tell that to the president," she said.
On receiving the message, Mr. Coolidge asked, "Same hen every time?"
"No," the guide replied, "different hens."
Tell that to Mrs. Coolidge," he said.
Applied to eating, the Coolidge effect explains not only the success of some fad diets but also the increase in the "never-missed-a-meal-look" over the past one hundred years, certainly in the United States ... We do know that during the 20th century there has been a tremendous increase in the variety of foods available.
Children whose diets consist of the same few foods every day will stop eating when their nutritional needs are met ... but those who can select from a panoply (display) of tempting offerings may eat more than they require ... Try it with your pet cat or pet dog; you'll find it's true with them too.
So the big "Buddy lesson" is: the tongue can be turned on even when the stomach is turned off … Santa, I'm telling the public, the cat is out of your bag, so sue me, sue me, what can you do me; do yourself something and cut out the seven course meals.

HAPPILY ADDICTED TO THE WEB
I know, enough with the sleigh bell, and whoever sees a sleigh?
Of course, sung to the tune of "Winter Wonderland"

Doorbell rings, I'm not list'nin',
From my mouth, drool is glist'nin',
I'm happy - although,
My boss let me go,
Happily addicted to the Web.
All night long, I sit clicking,
Unaware time is ticking,
There's beard on my cheek,
Same clothes for a week,
Happily addicted to the Web.
Friends come by and they will shake me saying,
"Yo, man don't you know tonight's the prom?"
With a listless shrug, I mutter, "No, man;
I just discovered letterman-dot-com."
Holidays ... they are jolly,
With Lynn, Mir, Min, and Holly,
They ask where I am,
Of course, with my RAM,
I'm happily addicted to the Web.
I don't phone; I don't send faxes,
Don't go out, I don't pay taxes,
Who cares if someday,
They drag me away?
I'm happily addicted to the Web.

SANTA CLAUS IS COMING TO TOWN
You better watch out ... you better not cry,
Better not pout ... I'm telling you why,
Santa Claus is coming to town.
(All right, what does the ol' bloke really want?)
He's making a list ... and checking it twice,
Gonna find out ... who's naughty and nice,
Santa Claus is coming to town.
(Ah ha, I think I'm getting the idea now.)
He sees you when you're sleeping,
He knows when you're awake,
He knows if you've been bad or good,
So be good for goodness sake.
(Yeah right, nobody's fooling Buddy over here.)
(I get the picture ... I'm right on to him.)
Oh, you better watch out ... you better not cry,
Better not pout ... I'm telling you why,
Santa Claus is comin' ... Santa Claus is comin'.
Sants Claus is comin' ... to town.
This jolly fella's not coming down MY chimney any night; no way, forget it.
I've always wondered why this old guy is so jolly; I mean get real.
Do you think it's because he knows where all the bad girls live?

A WORD ABOUT HOLIDAYS By Craig Wilson, USA TODAY
I hate this time of year. Not for its crass commercialism and forced frivolity, but because it's the season when the food police come out with their wagging fingers and annual tips on how to get through the holidays without gaining 10 pounds. You can't pick up a magazine without finding a list of holiday eating do's and don'ts. Eliminate second helpings, high-calorie sauces and cookies made with butter, they say. Fill up on vegetable sticks, they say.
Good grief. Is your favorite childhood memory of Christmas a carrot stick? I don't think so. Isn't mine, either. A carrot was something you left for Rudolph. I have my own list of tips for holiday eating. I assure you, if you follow them, you'll be fat and happy. So what if you don't make it to New Year's? Your pants won't fit anymore, anyway.
About those carrot sticks. Avoid them. Anyone who puts carrots on a holiday buffet table knows nothing of the Christmas spirit. In fact, if you see carrots, leave immediately. Go next door, where they're serving rum balls.
Drink as much eggnog as you can. And quickly. Like fine single-malt scotch, it's rare. In fact, it's even rarer than single-malt scotch. You can't find it any other time of year but now. So drink up! Who cares that it has 10,000 calories in every sip?
It's not as if you're going to turn into an eggnog-aholic or something. It's a treat. Enjoy it. Have one for me. Have two. It's later than you think. It's Christmas !!!
If something comes with gravy, use it. That's the whole point of gravy. Pour it on. Make a volcano out of your mashed potatoes. Fill it with gravy. Eat the volcano. Repeat.
As for mashed potatoes, always ask if they're made with skim milk or whole milk. If it's skim, pass. Why bother? It's like buying a sports car with an automatic transmission.
Do not have a snack before going to a party in an effort to control your eating. The whole point of going to a Christmas party is to eat other people's food for free. Lots of it. Hello? Remember college?
Under no circumstances should you exercise between now and New Year's. You can do that in January when you have nothing else to do. This is the time for long naps, which you'll need after circling the buffet table while carrying a 10-pound plate of food and that vat of eggnog.
If you come across something really good at a buffet table, like frosted Christmas cookies in the shape and size of Santa, position yourself near them and don't budge. Have as many as you can before becoming the center of attention. They're like a beautiful pair of shoes. You can't leave them behind. You're not going to see them again.
Same for pies. Apple. Pumpkin. Mincemeat. Have a slice of each. Or, if you don't like mincemeat, have two apples and one pumpkin. Always have three. When else do you get to have more than one dessert? Labor Day?
Did someone mention fruitcake? Granted, it's loaded with the mandatory celebratory calories, but avoid it at all cost. I mean, have some standards, mate.
And one final tip: If you don't feel terrible when you leave the party or get up from the table, you haven't been paying attention. Reread tips. Start over. But hurry, cookieless January is just around the corner.

BREAKING NEWS:
BUSH SEEKS TO ENJOIN SANTA FROM CHECKING LIST TWICE
Lack of Standards Decried
Washington D.C. -- Attorneys for President George W. Bush filed suit in federal court today, seeking to prevent Santa Claus from making his list and then checking it twice. The complaint seeks an immediate injunction against the beloved Christmas icon, asking the court to effectively ban his traditional practice of checking the list of good boys and girls one additional time before packing his sleigh.
The suit filed in Federal District Court in Washington, asks a federal judge to "hereby order Mr. Claus to cease and desist all repetitive and duplicative list-checking activity, and certify the original list as submitted without amendment, alteration, deletion, or other unnecessary modification."
"There are no standards for deciding who is naughty, and who is nice. It's totally arbitrary and capricious. How many more times does he need to check? This checking, checking and re-checking over and over again must stop now," said former Secretary James Baker.
Baker further claimed that unnamed GOP observers witnessed an elf remove all boys named Justin from the 'nice' list, filing them under 'naughty instead because "everyone knows all boys named Justin are brats."
Bush cited the potential for unauthorized list tampering, blasted what he called the "crazy, crazy mess up there at the North Pole." "Their security is really awful, really bad," said Bush. "My mother just walked right in, told 'em she was Mrs. Claus. They didn't check her ID or nothing."
Meanwhile, Dick Cheney, issued a direct plea to St. Nick himself. "Mr. Claus, I call on you to do the honorable thing, and quit checking your list. The children of the world have had enough. They demand closure now," Cheney said, adding that his granddaughter has already selected a name for the pony she's asked for.
The Rev. Jesse Jackson was quick to respond to the latest development with plans to lead his protesters from Florida to the North Pole via dogsled. The "Rainbow Mush for Justice" is scheduled to leave Friday. "We need red suits and sleighs, not law suits and delays," Jackson said.
Santa Claus could not be reached for comment, but a spokeself said he was "deeply distressed" by news of the pending legal action against him. "He's losing weight, and he hasn't said 'Ho Ho Ho' for days," said the spokeself. Experts feel that future Christmas celebrations could be placed in jeopardy. Santa is apparantly not qualified for any other job, and no one is sure what he might do if he loses this battle.

All right this was a fun stop ... let's get on with our adventure
You might enjoy the real poem written by Edward Everett Moore.
The Night Before Christmas
Return to … Santa Claus Menu … thank you.
Or we might return to my ... Navigator ... 'twas a moment of levity.
If you are experiencing the ... Holiday Blues ... I have something to tell you.
Otherwise, Buddy wishes all his readers a safe, and most happy holiday,
And may all your good wishes for you and your family come true.