We got lucky yesterday. On our way home from lunch we happened to drive by the rarest of occurrences in our fair city - the arrival of Demented Santa.
That’s right, every year right around Thanksgiving, Demented Santa arrives on a flatbed and gets set up to become the weird, disfigured face of the holidays in Manchester. His practical purpose, of course, is to sell Christmas trees along our main downtown street.
But he’s become so much more. He’s missing a foot. He has crazy eyes. He’s bleached and cracking from the sun. He has a Facebook page. You can buy a t-shirt with him on it. I have, in fact, bought a t-shirt of him.
“Stop, stop, we have to take a picture!” My wife knows what’s what. Around these parts, a first sighting of Demented Santa is like seeing Bigfoot.
The workers were backing DS into position when Little Bean and I jumped out of the car and ran up to the flatbed. Thankfully, the workers also understood and humored us.
I’m not sure what it says about Manchester that the arrival of a beat up, faded, hard plastic Santa is an occasion to celebrate, but, well, here we are.
Later, on Demented Santa’s Facebook page we were indeed called out as being the first to post a sighting. Yay us!
Welcome to the holiday season my Manchester peeps, our Santa has arrived. Long live Demented Santa
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That's awesome! Love those fun traditions.
I cannot imagine anyone would go to the work of storing this guy and putting him out each Christmas! 🧐