What’s In a Santa Name?

It’s Christmas week, and every good little girl and boy has started their final countdown to the expected arrival of Santa Claus. As for the naughty ones, well, how many children today have ever even seen a lump of coal?

Since the days when we were young boomers, the equation has flipped: where in our day Santa Claus was the most-often used name, now it’s simply, Santa. If you ask today’s kids who will be coming down the chimney, chances are very good that they will answer, “Santa” — not “Santa Claus” or “Old Saint Nick.” They are on a first name basis with the jolly man in the red suit. Mister Boomer sees this as further evidence of the casualization of our culture. Calling a person in authority by his first name wasn’t always the norm.

In our day, we were taught that grown-ups demanded a certain level of respect, and that meant always addressing them by a title and last name, like Mister or Missus. Surely the rule would apply to Santa Claus, as our elder. Can you imagine Eddie Haskell calling his friends’ parents “Ward” and “June?” Not a chance! It was always “Mr.” or “Mrs. Cleaver.” So it was for us throughout the strata of society, with store clerks, postmen, teachers, milkmen and even parents of neighbors and friends.

So when did this casual trend begin? We boomers may, in fact, be guilty of propagating the beginnings of the first-name trend. During the War, men and women from all walks of life and all ethnic groups mingled. Coincidentally or not, crooners such as Bing Crosby sang about “Santa” in Christmas songs of the 1940s. After the War, the returning G.I.s formed a burgeoning middle class, which, coupled with FHA loans for veterans, fueled a wider pool of possible homeowners. More money in the hands of a middle class also meant a new market for automobiles, and the the industry flourished throughout the 1950s and ’60s. This in turn gave rise to an exodus from cities to suburbs, as new families were started. At the same time, many men returning home were able to advance their education, thanks to the G.I. Bill. Thus, in Mister Boomer’s theory, the rise of the middle class and an increase in an educated public worked in tandem to soften the differences between the classes. As the playing field became a little more level — at least much more than previously — people began to know and refer to each other on a first-name basis.

By comparison, take a look at the movies of the 1920s and ’30s. Many films depicted the idle rich, lounging around in tuxedos and gowns and driving the most technologically advanced cars, while their day-to-day existence is maintained by a staff of hired help. There was certainly no first-name familiarity there between the classes. As for Santa Claus, look at the post-war “Miracle on 34th Street” (1947). Not only is the man called by his full name, but “kids” are always referred to as “children,” continuing the traditional titles of pre-War language.

Five years after the end of the War, perhaps the Christmas song that helped to change it all was “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.” Though the song appeared in November 1950, sung by Harry Brannon, it was Gene Autry’s version, released in Christmas week of that same year, that became a favorite of early boomers. Mister Boomer recalls early childhood schooldays when the class would sing the Rudolph song, taking to heart that on that foggy Christmas Eve, Santa came to say…

The evolution of the Santa Claus name change was reflected perfectly in the quintessential iconic singer of the early boomer era — Elvis Presley. While Elvis sang a rockin’ version of “Santa Claus Is Back in Town” and “Here Comes Santa Claus,” he also sang “Santa Bring My Baby Back to Me.” So the use of both Santa Claus and Santa continued throughout our Wonder years.

By the late sixties, the casualization of our society picked up steam. Longer hair and bell bottoms infiltrated the workplace, while companies such as IBM still held fast with uniforms of white shirts and plain ties. By the time we mid-level boomers came of age in the early 1970s, casualization was in full force. The older we got, the more we wanted to be different than our parents. Meanwhile, the “cool” teachers — themselves often part of the first wave of boomers — allowed students to call them by their first name. Then, as soon as we became parents, aunts and uncles ourselves, we much preferred that the offspring of friends and relatives call us by our first names.

Perhaps the bellwether moment for Santa Claus can be marked with a song released in 1979, at a time when the last wave of boomers were reaching their mid-teen years. Both beloved and hated by boomers and the subsequent generation, “Santa Got Run Over By a Reindeer,” in no uncertain terms, wasn’t your father’s Santa Claus.

Today we see the trend continue. Walk into any restaurant or store and you’ll see that servers and clerks wear name tags bearing only their first names. The Casual Fridays of the 1990s workplace has given way to Business Casual, every day. All language continues to change, so perhaps it was inevitable that the Santa Claus of our youth became the Santa of today. Yet Mister Boomer can’t help but harbor a little nostalgia for the days when Santa Claus was a magical being who may have frightened us in person, but delighted us on Christmas morning. Come Christmas morning, Mister Boomer suggests you inject jolly old Saint Nick’s full name into the conversation with your grandchildren and great grandchildren.

When did you first call Santa by only his first name, boomers?

Twinkies’ Shelf-Life May Have Expired

This past week, Hostess Brands, Inc., current owners of the Twinkies, HoHos, and Wonder Bread brands, among others, announced that after filing for bankruptcy in May of 2012 and the failure of mediation with its striking union workers, that it was shutting its doors after 85 years of operation.

This, of course, came as a shock to much of the public, which promptly went out and emptied store shelves of all types of Hostess products, especially Twinkies. Hostess snacks were a big part of every boomer’s childhood, but its origins date back a generation before ours.

Twinkies were first produced by James Alexander Dewar as a baker for the Continental Baking Company (originally the Ward Baking Company) in 1930. Looking for a way to keep factory machinery that produced strawberry cake treats busy beyond the strawberry season, Mr. Dewar concocted a recipe of yellow sponge cake filled with a banana cream. Known as much for its shape as its moist, sweet taste, Twinkies became an almost instant hit with consumers.

A decade and a half later, World War II helped change Twinkies history. Bananas were being rationed, and that forced the company to change the Twinkies filling from banana to vanilla. Consumers liked the vanilla cream so much that after the war it was kept as the only filling for the snack cake. After a failed foray into a strawberry filling, the company re-introduced banana cream-filled Twinkies in 1976, coinciding with the release of the movie, King Kong. It has remained a part of the brand line since.

Twinkies became one of many food brands to be marketed toward kids via commercials during the children’s television boom of the 1950s. Most notable among the programs that Hostess chose to sponsor was the Howdy Doody Show. That exposure was probably the earliest introduction to Twinkies for the first wave of boomers.

As the number of boomer children continued to grow, so did sales of Twinkies. Even after the boom had ended, the company chose to continue to relate the brand with children by introducing the Twinkie the Kid mascot in the 1970s.

Mister Boomer certainly recalls days of Twinkies in lunch boxes, though it wasn’t a regular occurrence for him. For cash-strapped families such as Mister B’s, though, two Twinkies per package allowed boomers’ moms to separate the cakes and wrap them individually with wax paper so two children could enjoy a single snack from the ten- or fifteen-cent package.

Mister B preferred the squiggle-topped chocolate cupcakes to Twinkies; then his taste buds evolved to include the original Hostess Sno Balls. Still, as time went on, Mister B only ate one out of a package at any given time. In the early days Mister B only saw the Sno Balls in white. He may have quickly disavowed liking the snack if forced to eat a pink version. Nonetheless, on rare occasions, Twinkies were purchased and consumed from the lunch boxes of Mister B and his siblings.

The company changed hands several times through the years, including its final incarnation as Hostess Brands, Inc. after the Intercontinental Baking Company was bought out from its first bankruptcy filing in 2009. The company has stated that it is considering selling individual brands from its product line, including Twinkies. Several firms have already expressed interest, including ones that produce Chef Boyardee and Pabst Blue Ribbon beer.

Weighing in at 2.5 grams of saturated fat per cake, changing tastes for healthier snacks may have contributed to the demise of this iconic snack food, but it appears that nostalgia may be just the recipe to save it from complete extinction. Industry analysts are reporting sufficient sales to suggest a niche market does exist to be able to sustain the brand.

How about it, boomers? Do Twinkies hold a special place in your memories, or are they a relic of a time gone by?