On top of the world

It begins when I saunter into a luxury jetliner, stroll to the very back of the plane, and then shortly after takeoff, duck behind a curtain... and casually remove most of my clothes.

Are you with me so far? OK, before you jump to some horribly non-festive conclusions, let me explain.

The real miracle is that, with the aid of a lovely flight attendant, I am transformed from a middle-aged, overweight newspaper columnist into a middle-aged, overweight newspaper columnist in a red velvet suit.

Ho, ho, ho! That miracle came true for me again yesterday when, for the second year in a row, I got to play Santa on the North Pole Express.

About 160 extremely excited kids from Victoria-Albert and John M. King schools were bused to the airport yesterday and packed into a Boeing 757 normally reserved for sun-seeking vacationers.

For most of these kids, the annual holiday flight -- organized by kind-hearted folks at the Winnipeg Airports Authority, Signature Vacations and Skyservice Airlines -- is their first chance to step onto a real jet, meet Santa and make some serious joyjul noise at 36,000 feet.

For the grownups on the plane, it's a chance to have their hearts warmed and their eardrums shattered. But we'll get to that in a minute.

The adventure began yesterday when the kids spilled off their buses and were met outside the airport by Jazz and Haley, two very real and very cute reindeer from Assiniboine Park Zoo.

"It was soooo cute," gasped Chanel Harper, 9, a Grade 4 student at Victoria-Albert, "It was kind of scary at first, but then I really liked it. I'm very excited. I've never been to the North Pole before."

The first sight that greeted Santa when he arrived was his main elf -- portrayed this year by his buddy and colleague, Free Press sportswriter Gary Lawless.

If you are going to play Santa for hundreds of overly excited children, it is essential that you have a veteran elf to watch your back. What you need to know here is that Gary is essentially the Tony Soprano of the elf world, the kind of elf you need in a dark alley. Dressed in stretchy green pants, a pirate-style shirt, red vest, red tights and a green hat with a bell on top, he resembled a garden gnome on steroids.

Gary was not overly happy with the fact Santa mistakenly issued him a pair of Extra Small tights -- "They're snug; leave it at that!" -- but his mood improved dramatically when a gaggle of lovely flight attendants and ticket agents insisted on having their pictures taken with "that big, cute elf."

Naturally, the kids loved him. Here is an actual discussion between Gary, who insisted on being called "Eddie the Elf," and one very small child.

Child: "You're not an elf. You don't have no pokey ears!"

Gary: "Yeah, well I grew so big I outgrew my ears."

Child: "Do you know Santa?"

Gary: "Are you kidding? I work for Santa. I don't make toys. I'm the security elf. I come and make sure everything is cool for Santa."

After a pizza lunch that took the kids at least five seconds to inhale, it was time to get on the aircraft, a process that is carried out with all the precision of your standard European soccer riot. Trust me, these delighted children would not have been bouncing off the walls faster if you'd forcibly injected them with sugar and fired them out of a cannon.

On board, the kids, decked out in red-and-green felt antlers and waving white pompoms, tackle the main activity of the day -- the loud production of noise. It would not surprise me to learn the decibel level created by their carol singing had shattered windows in downtown Grand Forks.

It is a tradition on the North Pole Express that the kids are restricted to making noise on two occasions: 1) when the plane is not moving; and 2) when the plane is moving.

Shortly after takeoff, while the kids were whipped into a carolling frenzy by emcee Ace Burpee of Hot 103, I ducked behind the curtain and, with the invaluable assistance of very lovely flight attendant Colleen Mellen, was miraculously transformed into Santa.

As an investigative journalist, I felt compelled to ask Colleen if this was the highlight of her aviation career. "It's definitely right up there," she conceded.

It is hard to describe, using mere words, what it feels like to put on that sweltering velvet suit at 36,000 feet and hand out candy canes to hundreds of delirious kids, but I will try: It is hot. Very very hot.

OK, it's more than that. It's cool, too. In fact, it's probably the coolest place to be in the world. But don't take my word for it.

"It means everything to these kids," John M. King teacher Brian Rogowsky told me, "It's the experience of a lifetime. One little girl told me she hadn't slept all night because she was so excited. I said: 'You must be tired.' And she said: 'No! I'm too excited to be tired.' "

Brenda Langton, vice-principal at Victoria-Albert, said the annual flight with Santa is really a Christmas miracle for the inner-city kids.

"I'm just speechless," she said. "Some of them are teary-eyed because it means so much to them."

Even hardened elves such as myself and Gary were a little misty-eyed when kids who'd earlier told us they didn't believe in Santa came scrambling towards us, eyes as wide as dinner plates, and gave us huge bear hugs.

Normally, I would leave you here with a witty and festive joke, but today I thought I'd give the last holiday word to Ley Zamora, a 10-year-old Grade 5 student at John M. King.

When I asked her if she'd had fun, Ley just gave me a dreamy look and said: "It's like the BEST Christmas gift ever!"

Thanks, Ley. I think Santa knows exactly what you mean.

doug.speirs@freepress.mb.ca

Republished from the Winnipeg Free Press print edition December 19, 2008 B1