Santa the Uber Driver, and more...

Dearest friends, colleagues, ex's who ended on good terms, ex's who still have me tied up in court over the ottoman (let it go...seriously, it wasn't even that comfortable and all the stuffing is starting to spill out anyway), 3rd connections who stumbled upon this newsletter and are now eyeballs-deep in regret but will continue to read on because it's a great way to blow off work on a Friday, and all the rest of you lovelies...

In keeping with this month's theme of holiday satire, we check in with some very special holiday heroes, to see what they're all up to these days...

...beginning with Frosty the Wedding Vendor:

"Happy Holidays everyone! I'd say Merry Christmas, Happy Hannukah, Festive Yule, Joyous Kwanzaa and the thousands of other greetings, but let's be real here...I'm on the clock. I live about as long as the goldfish your kid won at the state fair. So today, I want to talk to you about my adventure as a wedding vendor.

Remember the song, "Winter Wonderland", where they sang, "In the meadow we can build a snowman, and pretend that he is Parson Brown. He'll say, 'Are you married', we'll say, 'No man, but you can do the job when you're in town'?

Aside from the obvious question we all have -?who is Parson Brown and where does he get off asking intrusive, HR-unfriendly questions about our marital status??- this song about an impromptu wedding officiant spurred a business idea -?Frosty's Weddings.

So, I formed an LLC in early December, got my paperwork in order, and started a seasonal business marrying people when I'm in town. Yes, I know. The logistics of a travelling snowman don't jive with the laws of physics, but for the sake of this irreverent and completely implausible monologue, let's all overlook this very glaring plot hole.

I started by going to industry networking events, and eventually listed myself on The Knot and WeddingWire. At first, things were great! Business was flooding in, because let's face it, being married by a big ball of snow with a carrot for a nose beats the hell out of a long, boring ceremony by Father O'Malley, Imam Masood or Rabbi Goldbaum. I was able to charge anything I wanted and was a featured keynote at Wedding MBA in Vegas. Times were good.

Until they weren't.

Fast forward to March. The first spring thaw comes in, reducing me to a mangled, mutilated shell of my former glory. Still got a couple gigs, but only from budget couples who were willing to overlook this issue so they could have more money for their honeymoon in Daytona Beach. I had to politely ask one of the grooms to put on a shirt. Twice.

And man oh man, were these people a pain in that now dirty lump of slush I used to call a posterior. I slurred one word during the ceremony...I mean, c'mon, my mouth melted on Valentine's day...and they?destroyed?me on my review sites. One such gem from the Knot read:

"Hired Frosty as an officiant. WORST money I ever spent. And I've been to Applebees multiple times. Showed up with his hat slumped over, and barely got through the service before his feet melted all over my shoes. AWFUL. I would give him negative 5 stars if I could."

And that was one of the better ones. So, I mothballed the business and re-absorbed into the Earth until the following Christmas, when I made a grand return as Frosty the Photographer. And sweet mother of mercy, don't get me started on that adventure. People - I'm an artist. I don't do insta filters."

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Hang in there, Frosty. I'll keep you frozen in carbonite like Han Solo next year, little buddy.

Out next Christmas tale comes from Santa the Uber Driver...

"Ho! Ho! Ho! Meeeeerrrryyyyy Christmas! Another year, another season of traveling the globe, filling hearts with joy and avoiding shotgun fire above the skies of Kentucky by inebriated locals who think I'm a duck.

But honestly, that's the least of my troubles! With the rise of Amazon, the need for my services have gone down steadily over the past decade, forcing me to take side gigs just to make ends meet. And I've done it all. Walmart greeter, Men's Warehouse sandwich board guy, and most humiliating of all - Mall Santa. I'd get kids on my lap who'd ask, "Are you the REAL Santa?", and those moments when I'd smile and nod were the only bright spots in my day before I went home to a stuffy one-bedroom that hasn't been cleaned in months.

But even that work dried up, so I ended up becoming an Uber driver. I thought, "This will be great! Who wouldn't want to be shuttled around by Santa in his sleigh?" Oh, the sweet naivete of my 800-year-old youth.

First, I thought I would have the market cornered in the North Pole. I'd get the notification for a pickup and be on my merry way, only to find my ride cancelled as some Elf driving for Lyft swoops in and grabs my passenger in a Corolla. So I left the Pole and went to other cities I thought would be more lucrative. Great idea, right? That's what I thought, until that bachelorette party in Nashville turned the back of the sleigh into a scene from "Apocalypse Now."

Don't get me wrong, I have lots of fun in the sleigh! I've had some great conversations about the PGA tour and the Ethereum market, and I even challenged a 747 to a game of chicken over the North Atlantic. The terrified passenger on that adventure gave me 1 star after they went into cardiac arrest and I had to haul ass against the jet stream to get them to Cedars Sinai, but you can't win 'em all.

Most of the passengers are great, but you still get the arrogant rider here and there, who insists on giving me turn-by-turn directions. I've only visited every home in the Western world over the past millennium, yet this hotshot thinks I don't know the 405 is a parking lot during rush hour. And sleigh maintenance...forget about it. I even got pulled over and ticketed for an expired emissions inspection. Hey officer, why don't you try finding a body shop that can inspect Dancer, Prancer, Vixen and Blixen on Sundays?

But it really isn't that bad. It's still work. And it allows me to finance my addictions to aged scotch and vintage Mesopotamian art. So, off I go. Just got another passenger request. Charlie Sheen needs a ride to a party in the hills, so if you've got any prayers left in the tank for 'ol Santa, now's the time.

Merrryyyyy Christmas!!

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Keep on truckin', Santa. For what it's worth, I gave you 5 stars after taking me home from the St. Patrick's Day crawl this year.

Finally, we visit with our old buddy Clark Griswold, who's now a Christmas app developer...

"Hey kids!

Why do I keep saying that? My kids are now old enough for routine colonoscopies.

And why were my kids during the Christmas of '89 somehow younger than they were during our cross-country trek of '83 or European vacation of '85? Was there a rift in the space-time continuum? Were they afflicted with that Benjamin Button situation? Were the writers and casting directors just that lazy and think all of you wouldn't notice?

But you know, I was thinking a lot about family and connection this holiday season. Because family has always meant a lot to me. Whether it's being hit up for cash by my wife's deadbeat cousin or committing second-degree manslaughter against her aunt in the deserts of Arizona, there's just nothing more important.

And after the last Christmas, where we had to teach people my age how to use Zoom, which had the ease and comfort of a back-alley root canal, I figured, we needed a new way to stay connected during the holidays.

So, I developed an app called, "Christmas Vacation!". Now, much like the biopic by that name which featured my own Christmas back in the 80s, this one allows you to click on which relatives you treasure most, and allows you to carefully avoid the rest. You get alerts when a cousin Eddie-type is about to stumble into the room you're in, when the desserts first come out so you can push and shove your niece out of the way for the good parts and pre-populates an excuse for you to leave early.

"Uh oh! Looks like Lithuania just invaded my block! Should probably get home to assess the damage."

It's highly plausible.

This app was also developed by the good folks who created Clubhouse, so it's available to all your iPhone users! If you have the right connections. And know the secret password. And show up with the right dress code. And treat the android users in your life like the unworthy, medieval lepers they are.

Merry Christmas kids!

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See you wonderful gems of humans with another edition on New Years' Eve. In the meantime, Merry...all the things.

Love you all to the moon and back.

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Geoff Woliner, CEO of Winning Wit, is a?speaker?&?author?who helps organizations?de-stress through comedy.

If your colleagues have been super-stressed over the past few years and need a few laughs at your next conference, holiday party, team-building pow-wow or trip to Mickey D's...

...go to a medium and channel the spirit of Rodney Dangerfield.

But if he's busy, let's chat.

[email protected]