When I was a little girl about 2 or 3 years old like some kids I was afraid of Santa. There is nothing really strange about that many children are afraid of Santa. Me on the other hand was only afraid of certain depictions of Santa; mainly when he was played by a live action person.

If you are too young to remember before the internet 976 and 1-900 numbers were a form of information and entrainment. The problem back then was that the 976 and 1-900 commercials were always on. You couldn’t escape them. The commercials were on during cartoons, game shows, soaps, the local news, old movies, and late night tv. Although I didn’t watch late night tv back then. I think my bedtime was like 8PM.

Back in about somewhere between 1986-1989 the 976 and 1-900 commercials marketed to children were rampant on tv. It seemed like every commercial break there would be at least one of those commercials. All those commercials were awful in their own right, but the Santa ones seemed to bother me the most.

I think the combination of my fear of live action Santa combined with my annoyance of those commercials fed my fear. I just wanted to watch Dennis the Menace cartoons in peace. The only time I did get a break while watching tv was when I would watch PBS.

No other forms of Santa bothered me. I was fine with watching in stop motion like in the Rudolph Red Nosed Reindeer special. 

Cartoons didn’t bother me. 

Not even decorations scared me. 

Well most of them anyway.

One day when I think I was about 3 my dad got the bright idea to take me to the mall to meet Santa. The problem was he didn’t tell me that was what we were doing. Actually that is the way most things are with my dad he takes me somewhere to surprise me and not tell me what we are doing, and usually it ended in disaster more than something fun and memorable. My dad and Santa coaxed me to come near Santa. Santa told me if I came up to him I’d get candy. Santa had really good candy too; Brach’s caramel Royals. Not even candy could get me near Santa. I got so scared I ran crying into the Mervyn’s looking for my mother. He waved the candy at me to try to get me to come back. Luckily no photographic evidence exists of this. And I haven’t taken a picture with Santa since.

The strange thing was I was not afraid of the Easter Bunny. During that time there are a few pictures of me with the Easter Bunny. I was also not afraid of the characters at Disneyland.

I think when I was about 5 or 6 years old I got over my fear of Santa, but those old Santa hotline commercials still creep me out as an adult.

 Especially this one.