I don't think I ever believed in Santa Claus.
Part of this was that I grew up in a bungalow. We didn't have a fireplace or a chimney for Santa to climb down; Santa's only available options were the front door or the back door. Our stockings were hung on the banister by the front door stairs, and my sisters and I were given strict instructions on Christmas morning to remain in one of the bedrooms until the appropriate time (I think it was 6 am), at which point we could come out and see what we had gotten. I could hear Mom and Dad rummaging around before then, so I pretty much figured out it was them stuffing our stockings, not Santa.
But part of it was that I tended to think a little bit differently from other kids my age. For instance, when I was in the Wolf Cubs, you could earn stars or badges if you performed certain tasks or accomplishments. Each Cub was part of a group of six, with a "sixer" as leader and "seconder" as the second-in-command; to become a seconder, you needed to have earned three stars out of a possible five, and sixers needed all five. But badges didn't count for anything other than to be able to add another badge to your sleeve. So I earned all five stars and became a sixer, but I never bothered with badges - I only got two and I think those were ones that everyone got. I don't recall anyone else being quite as transactional about this, and I never told anyone that this was what I was doing. (The only other thing I remember about Wolf Cubs was that, the last year I was a member, I had grown my hair out a bit; it was 1971. One of the Cubs leaders spent the better part of that year telling me that I needed to get a haircut. I didn't get one. When I became too old to be a Wolf Cub, I didn't take the next step and join the Boy Scouts.)
Another thing that I remember from when I was a pre-teen was when our family went to Belleville to visit our former neighbours, who had moved there. They were deeply religious and went to the Baptist church every Sunday. When we visited, I went to church with my neighbours on the Sunday that we were there. I recall the minister talking a lot about sinners this and sinners that, and I recall thinking: everyone else there was a regular member of the church. So, when they were talking about sinners, they were talking about me. I think I was 10 years old at the time.
Anyway, I never believed in Santa Claus, so the concept was not important to me. But I found out the hard way that Santa was important to most of the people around me. Years ago, I was doing colour commentary for an improv show and mentioned in one comment that there was no such thing as Santa Claus. The crowd booed me and, after the show, a man came up to me and said that if his kids had been in the audience, he would have had to punch me. Whoa, I thought - Santa is more important than I realized.
I have run across a few other things like this since then. I call them Santa Claus Moments: realizations that the people around me think differently from me. This led me to formulate the Platinum Rule as a step up from the Golden Rule (I don't think the concept of a Platinum Rule is original with me). The Golden Rule - do unto others as you would have them do unto you - is not good enough. The Platinum Rule is: do unto others as they would prefer to be done unto. Following the Platinum Rule, and developing my listening skills, has enabled me more or less to fit into the society in which I live.
September 2026