It is the starting of a New Year and I've got some confessions and overall statements to make. The first is a confession: Santa Claus and I don't get along to good. When I was about 7 years old and lived on Herd Street, I started noticing things. You see, I lived on Herd Street which was 100% cotton mill. Across the ditch was Jordanville where the people who owned stores and doctors, dentist, lawyers and others of caliber lived. As I said when I was about 7 I noticed that the kids on Herd Street got one kind of toys while the kids from Jordanville and King Street got a much better and more expensive type of toys. When I got up on Christmas I got a cap gun, they got a 22 rifle, and if I got roller skates those kids got a bicycle. I decided to bring this to Santa's attention in case he had not noticed what was going on. One day while I was in town I ran into Santa at Elmore's Five and Dime Store.
Nobody was around except me, my friend Robert Frazier and Santa. I said, “Santa, can I ask you a question?” “Ho, ho, ho,” he said, “you can ask me anything, young fellow. Have you been good?” “Yes sir,” I replied. “My question is, why do the boys and girls of King Street and Jordanville get all the big expensive toys and the boys and girls of Herd Street get the cheap toys?” His answer was, “get away from me boy, you bother me.”
As I started to walk away he said, “Have you talked to your daddy about this?” “No sir,” I answered. “I thought you were the one I needed to mention it to.” My talk with him didn't do much good because in the years since he hasn't changed much. With one exception, if these groups find out you don't have much they put you on a list and load you down at Christmastime. A group of us here in Kent and surrounding areas bought a bunch of real good stuff like they used to get on King Street and Jordanville.
We got up 40 brand new bicycles; the kids came the mamas and daddies thanked us and cried real tears as they received the bicycles. When the stores like Walmart opened the next day, they brought the bicycles to the return center and got money for them.
To continue, my relationship hasn't got much better as the years went on with Santa Claus. I could tell you stories about me and him that would break your heart. I later became a barber and Santa quit getting a haircut or shave. I don't know if it is because of me but I've got my suspiciousness. It has always been one thing or another and I have had discussions with other people who grew up in my area and they have confessed they suspected the same thing I have.
Let us take this year for instance. I didn't want to be hoggish, so I didn't ask for but two things. I needed another toilet seat; the one I have came with the house my son and I built for me when they kicked me out of the big house. They didn't really didn't kick me out but they had three girls over a period of years and you put those girls with my daughter-in-law and that makes my son, his wife and three girls.
No man who was already been made to feel like an outsider in his own home could take this kind of treatment and besides all of this my son acts like a whopped puppy around those four women. As you can see I didn't have a chance so we built me a house where I thought I would be king of my castle. That's how I know the commode seat is 21 years old, to be exact.
The second thing is something I've wanted for years and years. I've wanted this ever since I sold my cabin on Lake Martin and that was years ago. I asked Santa in my letter to him and addressed to North Pole.
The letter went sorta like this.
“Dear Santa, I have been real good this year and I just want two things. 1. A waterfront lot on Lake Martin, on the Elmore side or Tallapoosa County side. 2. A toilet seat, I don't care what it is made out of as long as it is comfortable and doesn't slide or pinch me. Signed the Coffeebreaker.”
Now, that is not too much and I have been good. I have noticed age has taken away most of the things Santa would not approve of. I must admit I still think of them, I just can't do them anymore.
Well, I've given it to you, open and honestly. Now you know why I feel like I do, by the way the toilet seat I got didn't fit. Santa brought me a round seat and I have an oblong commode. I believe Santa done this on purpose!