COMMENTARY: ‘Elfing’ for Vashon
Published 12:28 pm Tuesday, December 22, 2015
Recently I’ve been “elfing.” As everyone knows, this is the gerund form of “to elf” which, in turn, is the infinitive verb form of the noun, “elf.” (Don’t you wish now that you hadn’t nodded off in high school grammar?)
The noun “elf” is not capitalized. To capitalize it would be improper since “elf” is not a proper noun …and anyway, as everyone knows, elves (the plural of “elf”) are little folks, so capitalization would be wasted on them. They’re like leprechauns, only they wear red, instead of just green, and show up in the winter, not the spring. Elves come out when the winter weather is at its worst. This is because, unlike leprechauns, elves are hopeless idiots.
But they are big-hearted idiots, and whenever Santa gives them a break (which, at this time of year, ain’t often), they venture out into the cold ringing bells to raise money for good causes. There is no shortage of those causes here on Vashon, or anywhere else for that matter. They ring bells because, on account of being very short, this is the only way they can get noticed and keep from being tromped upon by hurrying shoppers who don’t pay attention to where they’re going as they enter the Thriftway.
Their diminutive stature notwithstanding, try as you might, you can’t ignore these elves. You can’t for example, shift course and use the other store entrance because they’ve got them both covered. Plus, they’ve got you both coming and going and, while elves are idiots, they have good memories (this is in part due to the fact that they are not the aforesaid drunken leprechauns). They’ll remember that you said you’d contribute on your way out. They’ll remember your coat, your hair, your Birkenstocks complete with socks.
Now, becoming an elf does not take a lot of brains (see “idiot” above.) When asked, all you have to do is say yes, as I did for Vashon Youth & Family Services this year. If you have a soft heart and even softer brain, “yes” comes easily. Thus it was that I became an elf. I confess, though, that I have some disadvantages as an elf. First off, I am 6 feet 5 inches tall and thus do not fit the usual elf image. A kid came up to me and actually said, “You’re not an elf; you’re too big.” It was everything I could do to keep from giving him a swift kick, but that would be un-elflike. Second, I am a wise-guy former New Yorker which, if you think about it, is not your most ideal set of credentials. But when times are tough, elf recruiters will take any idiot who says yes.
I’ve watched elves. They smile a lot, are polite and ring those dreadful bells which, let’s face it: You’ll pay almost anything to stop. Maybe being nice is a good technique, but I wasn’t buying it. Nope.
To me, being an elf is like being given a stage for stand-up comedy, New York style. You gotta get shoppers’ attention, you gotta stop them in their tracks and give them no choice but to contribute to the cause. I start out with my most gentle New Yorker approach: I say, “Don’t even think about walking in that door without making a donation. You got kids maybe? You still like them? You think Santa isn’t watching you this very moment?” But then there are the hard cases, and you just gotta make their perilous situation very clear to them: “You think you’re gettin’ in here without a donation?! Fugeddaboudit, pal! Wise up! Don’t make me bring in Big Guido with his baseball bat. You like those knees of yours? How much, eh? How much are they worth to you? Hey, Guido!”
I have found this technique very effective, if only because shoppers know the next step with an elf from New York is a mugging, which is so unseemly right there outside the Thriftway. Kinda embarrassing. The elf, who is doing “good works,” is safe. You on the other hand, are not, unless you donate. See? The solution is so simple…
Okay, so this is a humor column, but let me tell you, it ain’t easy standing out in the cold, ringing annoying bells, eyes watering from the wind, wishing you had a flask of bourbon and begging for worthy causes. Thankfully, there are lots of islanders willing to elf and lots of other islanders generous with their contributions.
It is great to be an elf. And an islander. Happy holidays.
— Will North is an island novelist and occasional Beachcomber columnist.
