The War on Christmas Continues...

Hi, I'm Frannie Foxworthy, standing here at the North Pole with the one and only Santa Claus just days before Christmas when he makes his yearly pilgrimage delivering toys to all the kids in the world. He has granted Foxworthy News this special interview because he has a message he wants to tell the world and you're about to hear that message right now.

"Mr. Claus, thank you so much for granting us an interview right in the middle of peak season. I know you are quite busy right now, but can you tell us why you contacted us and what is this message you want us to hear?"

"Thank you, Frannie, and welcome to my corner of the world. As you can see in the background, my elves are gearing up for my yearly visit to all those good little girls and boys who are waiting for me to visit them, but I have a problem."

"What's that Mr. Claus?"

"I'm afraid I can't make it."

"What do you mean, you can't make it?"

"Well, you see, I was going through this famous tale someone wrote about me called 'The Night Before Christmas'."

"I love that story, Santa!"

"I'm sure you do, as well as I. This story has been told to generations after generations of children, but I'm afraid it's all about to come to an end."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm afraid I've gotten word that the President has outlawed saying 'Merry Christmas' because it offends a certain part of the world. And when I shout, 'Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night,' I'm being politically-incorrect. And if Santa is being politically-incorrect, then I just can't set a good example for the children of the world anymore."

"But, Santa, you've been doing this for generations and generations!"

"I know, but the world has changed. Before you know it, they'll outlaw me even, saying that I represent something that some part of the world doesn't believe in anymore. I don't want to offend those who don't believe and I certainly can't be politically-incorrect. I may not be what some people think I am, but I'm certainly not a hyprocrit.

"So, I'm getting out before it comes to that."

"But, what about the children? What about when they get up and there's no presents under the Christmas tree for them?"

"Don't you see, Franny? Eventually, they're going to change the name altogether anyway. The Christ in Christmas offends a certain percentage of the population and the President must keep those votes, too. It's all about politics, don't you see that?"

"You mean you think that one day there won't be a Christmas?"

"Oh, there will be a Christmas, but the name will change. I'm not sure what they're going to call it. They've got top brass talking about it now but it's all top secret."

"But, what will you do, Santa, if you can't do what you've been doing for thousands of years?"

"Maybe it's time I gave it a rest. Before long, they'll outlaw me, too, so I'm thinking of a new vocation."

"New vocation?"

"Yeah, I'm thinking about going back to school and making something of myself. Try out a profession where I'll make lots of money and can buy all those material possessions that I've been painstakenly making by hand. See what's it's like to have things handed to me instead of making them myself. Receiving instead of giving. It's a new concept that I'm not sure whether I'm going to like or not, but as they say, you can't fight city hall."

"I don't know what to say, Santa."

"You don't have to say anything. Santa knows what you are thinking and I know what the rest of the world is thinking. Maybe I'll become a psychic, who knows. But, Ms. Foxworthy, I do want to say this. All this crap about the holidays is getting on my nerves and I've had it. People aren't happy unless they change this, change that, but who am I? A lowly pilgrim just trying to make the children happy. My world doesn't exist anymore. I'm not sure what the new world is going to be like, but I have a choice. I can either join it or not. I have no choice. Even though we live in a democratic age, our choices are being squashed like a June bug. So, I believe I need to hang up the suit and put Rudolf out to pasture because there is no need for me anymore."

"Santa?"

"Yes?"

"Can I still believe in you?"

"Of course you can."

Santa got real low and whispered into my ear out of the earshot of the microphone and said, "Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night."

(Please feel free to post a link to this article on your blog or wherever else you'd like to help us to save Christmas!)