Wake Me Up Before You Ho-Ho

This past Saturday, my phone buzzed with a text alert at 9:28 am. Not too early, but I’d been up late the night before, dreaming up funny slogans to put on political tees, so I was technically still in bed, nursing my first coffee of the morning.

It was Denise, the third Amigo in the high school and early-Seattle triumvirate that was (and always will be) Dana DuBois, Denise, and Lawrence Winnerman. I’d tag her here, but she’s like a bit like the friendly wild cat who only shows up when she wants to. 😆

Denise and her husband, Raj, another longtime childhood friend of ours (they reconnected at our 20-year reunion, and really reconnected, if you know what I mean), had been discussing my recent cri de coeur on LinkedIn. I have been unemployed for 10 months, and went fully unvarnished meltdown on the career networking site.

Turns out, that might have been the smartest thing I’ve done in a while.

After some initial protestations, my eye started to drift back to that $8,000 a weekend figure. Could that possibly be true? Even if it was half of that…

The thing is, I had played Santa before. For two years, I put on a silly, cheap Santa suit and roleplayed the iconic fat man at Dana’s Christmas party. It was loud and hot and chaotic, and…surprisingly fun.

But playing Santa on the regular, in front of swarms of people? I swore I’d never do it. I was the kind of person who rolled my eyes at mall Santas and scoffed at anyone who willingly subjected themselves to a sea of screaming toddlers and sticky-fingered chaos. The suit was definitely too hot. I had the beard, for sure, but I wanted it to NOT be white for as long as possible.

The whole “jolly old elf” persona? I mean, I could play that for an hour or so, but endless hours of it just might drain my ambivert battery to the point of no return. Despite numerous folks telling me that this was a Thing I Should Do, it was not, in fact, a thing I wanted to do.

But after ten months of watching my bank account do an impression of a melting snowman, let’s just say my standards softened. I went from “absolutely not” to “how much are we talking?” in about four seconds. And when I found out seasoned Santas can make thousands of dollars a week, just for sitting in a chair and occasionally saying “Ho, ho, ho”? Suddenly, the red suit didn’t seem so ridiculous.

I texted Denise back, “I’ll need a good suit,” at the exact same moment she was texting me, “You’ll need a really good suit.” Great minds, eh? Important detail: Denise is an amazing seamstress. She’s also an illustrator, an industrial designer, a crafter extraordinaire, and a billion other things—but good lord, does she know how to make clothes.

A deal was struck, my friends! Denise is going to craft a Santa suit that is not your run-of-the-mill red velvet mall Santa suit. This will be the gold standard of Santa suits—lush, tailored, and just flamboyant enough to command respect from toddlers and grandmas alike. The materials will be high quality, elegant, and so well made that people will look at me in the suit and think, “OMG, that might actually be Santa.”

We’ve brainstormed the look, and the level of detail and care we want to bring to it; next, I wanted to build out my Santa’s “libretto”—the story of who he is, and where he comes from.

Nikolaus Lorenz von Wintermann
Freiherr of Winterberg and Keeper of the Eastern Pass
Born: December 6, 1542 | Died: unknown

Born on the feast day of Saint Nicholas in the cold winter of 1542, Nikolaus Lorenz was the only son of Baron Matthias von Wintermann and Lady Katherina of Ansbach. Baptized in the family’s stone chapel beneath a sky heavy with snow, his name was chosen in devotion to the saint—and, some say, by divine inspiration.

Raised in the alpine hamlet of Winterberg, nestled along trade routes through the Fichtelgebirge mountains, Nikolaus Lorenz grew up witnessing the hardships of peasant life. Famine, plague, and the war had all ravaged the region, but from a young age, Nikolaus was known for his remarkable compassion.

Though educated in Würzburg and expected to pursue military or political distinction, he returned instead to his ancestral lands at twenty-four. Upon inheriting his father's title, Nikolaus took an unusual path: rather than expand his holdings or secure a wealthy marriage, he focused on improving the conditions of the poor.

He commissioned new grain stores to feed the hungry during lean winters, built orphan houses, and employed woodcarvers and bakers to prepare seasonal gifts for the village children. Most famously, he would ride out on the night of December 5th, masked and cloaked, distributing food, toys, and coin in secret, leaving items in wooden shoes left outside cottage doors.

Even Protestants—initially skeptical of his Catholic sympathies—grew to respect him. Many came to believe he was the reincarnation of Saint Nicholas himself, sent to guide the people of Franconia through dark times.

The von Wintermann name, according to both chroniclers and folklore, harks back to the 13th century, when a mysterious rider known as the Winter Knight first appeared during a terrible winter famine. Clad in white, astride a snow-colored steed, he delivered food and firewood to the starving, vanishing before he could be thanked.

Some say he was a wandering Templar who had renounced war. Others claim he was Wodan in mortal guise, or an angel of Saint Nicholas exiled from heaven. When the House of Wintermann was established in the late 1300s, its founders adopted the name in honor of this spectral benefactor, pledging to rule with humility, generosity, and reverence for the poor.

Nikolaus Lorenz, by virtue of both his birthdate and deeds, became in the minds of the people the return of the Winter Knight—not merely his heir, but his embodied spirit.

So, many things are in the works. I have purchased the domain name SantaLawrence.com. Don’t click now, it’s still a work in progress. I’ll launch it soon with plenty of fanfare, I promise.

Because I am a new Substacker, I’m going to document this process in excruciating detail. Think The Santaland Diaries 2.0, but this time the protagonist is the Santa, and not a little elf.

I’m excited to do it, and I’m excited to share it with you as I go. If you have ideas, comments, questions—hit me with your best shot! I want to hear from you!

And hey, I think I’m pretty good at being Santa. In the last go-round, take a look at all those smiling faces!