Tuesday, December 13, 2016
Another Santa Landing in Ocala
I was on a bike when I saw this lawn decoration. Not wanting to be like the papparrazi, I stopped a couple of doors down to take a picture.
While composing the shot, I noticed an older lady, blue hair, slightly plump, wearing a floral print dress which was covered in part by an apron, standing in front of Santa and Mrs. Claus. She drew herself up haughtily, scowled mightily, drew a deep breath, and hissed loudly at the Claus couple.
Then she turned around and when she saw me, waddled hastily to my side.
"Well, I never!" she exclaimed.
"You never what?" I asked.
"You funnin' with me?" She asked.
"No, I'm just wondering what you're so upset about." I said.
"Well, I never!" She said again. "You look like a nice person, and I never thought a nice person would think it OK for Santa and his missus to get out of their sleigh and kiss in the middle of a yard! I mean, I never!"
"Now you listen here mister, my goodness gracious, what if'n some kids walked by and saw that? I just never, ever, in my life seen nothing like that. That ain't what Christmas is all about!"
I put my bike's kickstand down, and moved to stand in front of the lady.
"What do you think you're doing?" she said, moving back.
I reached out, grabbed her hands and pulled her close and kissed her gently on her forehead.
Then I said, "Christmas is supposed to be about love, and Santa and Mrs. Claus show everyone how much they love each other when they kiss. I'd suggest this Christmas you kiss the people you love, tell them you love them and not worry about Santa and his missus."
Stepping back, she looked up at me and said, "Well, I never!" but she was smiling just a bit and her eyes twinkled. "Well, I never!" she said again as she turned and waddled down the street to where she came from.
That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
"Photographers deal in things which are continually vanishing and when they have vanished there is no contrivance on earth which can make them come back again." — Henri Cartier-Bresson