Ho Ho Horns?

You know, even I have to admit that if you take a look at some of our recently fabricated Christmas traditions they are a just a little bit over the top at times…even for a 36 year old kid like myself.

I've found myself over the past week explaining why Santa uses reindeer when he could just Fed Ex the gifts to us on Christmas Eve, why our "shelf elf" Jingle has to fly magically to the North Pole each night to report the boys’ behavior to the man in red instead of just calling him on his cell phone after we are asleep to debrief him on the daily buzz, why we can’t just text our lists to Santa instead of writing a letter and putting it by the fireplace, and the best of all…”What’s the real Santa story Dad?” 

The coat makes the man.

Is it the Tim Allen story from The Santa Clause where Santa is just a poor chap who puts on the right coat at the right time?  Is it the Santa Claus the Movie version where an unsuspecting childless norseman gets lost in a blizzard and is rescued by elves who happen to inhabit a magical toy factory?  Is it the Rankin & Bass tradition that tells us of an orphan named Claus who is adopted by the Kringle family, who conveniently enough used to be the first toymakers to the king?   

You know what…I just don’t know.  But at least this is apparently not a new problem.

Krampus and Saint Nick visiting the home of some understandably nervous children.

As complicated and crazy as we have made the Santa story for ourselves over the past 20 years, it’s nothing compared to the stories of old.  Celts and Europeans have been spinning tales of Christmas visitations for a thousand years and some of them are more like Halloween tales than Christmas stories.

The one that caught my attention recently was the Hungarian legend of the Christmas Krampus.  The Krampus is apparently a part-goat-part human-part pure evil creature that accompanied Saint Nicholas as he went from town to town rewarding the good little girls and boys with gifts and love.  The Krampus’s job was to punish those who didn’t make the Saint’s list.  He was said to hide in the shadows outside the home of the bad children, waiting for the perfect time to snatch them up.  He punished the slightly naughty children by whacking them with birch twigs or pelting them with chunks of coal.  The more deliquent youths were shoved into the blanket he carried on his back and whisked off to the woods where he would either eat them alive (feet first) or kick aside a rock covering a doorway to the underworld and toss them in (presumably head first). 

  Merry Christmas Augustus and Helga…now be sure to do your chores so the evil goat demon doesn’t snatch you and throw you into Hell….wow.

Krampus merrily prancing down the street during a German Christmas parade...that's a harder image than Billy Bob as Bad Santa to get out of my head!  And you thought the cashiers at Kohl's on Black Friday were scary!

 

 It seems that legends, myths and stories surrounding the Christmas visitation of kids by larger than life mythical characters are historically screwed up... as part of the tradition of Christmas traditions.   

At least the story of Jesus birth is one that stays constant and true year after year, generation after generation.  And although king Herod is a pretty scary part of that event (if you read more than the greeting card snippit), even he doesn't paint the picture of a horrible horned goat man with a sack of screaming kids on his back ... but maybe that's where our ancestors got the idea?

Oh well boys and girls...be it coal in the stocking or Old Mr. Krampus hiding behind the shrubs next to the garage, you had better be good for goodness sake!