Red Suit Recollections

It’s a tough job. They wear hot, heavy uniforms and answer questions from beard-pulling babies with demanding parents. They toil up to 14-hour days for a month and then go the rest of the year without work.

Yes, it’s a tough job, they say, but somebody has to do it.

The 65 members of the Amalgamated Order of Real Bearded Santas do it each year with a smile--and a belly-shaking ho-ho-ho.

For six years, after the holidays have ended, the curly-haired Father Christmas Santas, ZZ Top bearded Santas and Santas with cowboy hats and boots have gathered from all over California at Clearman’s North Woods Inn in La Mirada to trade stories, swap tips and reminisce.

Sitting in the fake-snow-covered lodge Sunday, they compared stories and beard sizes over Bloody Marys and red wine. According to these Santas, there are a few key rules.

For those who do malls and parties, never promise anything, unless mommy and daddy are vigorously nodding their heads behind junior’s gaze. If you can’t hear what a child is saying, never ask her to repeat herself. Instead, wait for a pause and say, “OK, what else would you like?”

Real Santas bring their own suits. Tim Connaghan, who does print and TV ads, has five. He has a Renaissance outfit, the traditional red suit with full fur, a traveling outfit, a lightweight suit he prefers to wear under camera lights, and a formal Santa suit with embossed red stars.

“People come a long way to see us. We need to give them authenticity,” said Tom Hartsfield from Downey, who founded the order. “Some guys wear fancy shirts and no hat. But I’m a traditionalist. I wear real leather boots and never go without gloves.”

Even without a suit, a Santa never knows when he’ll be recognized. Sam Solace, a retired U.S. postal worker and Santa for 10 years, recalled once stopping at a gas station about 3 a.m. in New Mexico. “The owner came out and said her great grandmother wanted to talk to me,” he recalled. “She was an Indian. I don’t know from what tribe. But she gave me this silver and turquoise ring. Then she told me, ‘Now, don’t ever miss my grandchildren!’ ”

Despite the commercialization of the holidays, Hartsfield said his Santas are held to a higher standard. They don’t advertise alcohol and nobody threatens them. A few years back, a TV commercial showing Dennis Rodman muscling a Santa was pulled after only one airing due to public outcry, he said.

Santas speak guardedly about the hazards of their profession. One bearded Santa who asked not to be named said a woman filed a complaint against him after discovering he didn’t travel with his reindeer. Another Santa said he was extra careful with teenage girls, keeping his hands in full view at all times.

The Santas say they find it fun playing for adults.

“You already know kids are going to get excited, but there’s something beautiful about the look on a parent’s face because it’s less expected,” said Michael Lee Gogin, an actor in Los Angeles and one of the few elves given honorary membership in the order.

Hartsfield said he is rarely surprised by Santa requests. The most popular gift for girls is the same each year. Barbies. Boys are less predictable. This year it was a robot puppy dog.

Sometimes the requests tear at Santa’s heart. One girl wanted Hartsfield to get her parents back together. But the saddest came from a woman who asked to die.

“She was sick with cancer. I tried to protest, but what do you really say to that?” he wondered.

But even Santas have insecurities. After lunch, one Santa whispered, “My problem, and I can’t tell anyone, is that I still don’t know all the names of my reindeer, never did learn ‘em.”