Living and Dying in 5/4 Time by Captain Morgan

   A long, long time ago, there was an old cat, big as a house with righteous long hair and a hell of a fine beard hang’n out in a small town in the north country. He had a real cool gig goin’ on, inventing some out-a-sight stuff that he’d sell in a little shop down on main street. Well, he’d sell some of it. He wasn’t really into making a lot of money and as often as not some ragged kid would wander into his shop and the old guy’d just give ‘em whatever they saw they liked.
   The old guy was like that with everyone that came into his shop. Along the way he learned how to fashion all sorts of way cool stuff. He made a wooden arm for an old fisherman who’d lost his in an accident at sea. For a busted-up old miner the old guy created a new leg and for a blacksmith who’d been struck blind when his furnace exploded, the old guy even made a set of eyes.
   But mostly, the old guy just created a bunch of toys that had it all goin’ on. His favorite time of year was a week or so after the winter solstice began, when the whole world slowed down long enough to celebrate some cool religious gigs. The old guy didn’t really have any religiious affiliation. Hell, he just loved everyone equal. Made no never mind to him what gods ya worshipped or if ya did at all. Everyone was real special to him and he didn’t give much thought to love’n one more than another. Well, except for his main squeeze, the hot and sexy Mrs Clause. She mighta been gettin’ on in years and was a little slower gettin’ around than she used to be but she was one amazing lady and the old Santa Man loved her like the sun loves the moon.
   Somewhere along the line the old Santa Man started feel’n sorta low to the ground and tired. He’d lay his head on his lover’s shoulder and slowly drift off to sleep. His Lady Clause loved him doin’ that. Said she could feel his soul on her shoulder when he was sleep’n like that. Could be it’s true. They were a real tight couple’a folks.
   One night the old guy laid down next to his lover and somewhere in the night departed for his next lifetime. As he shuffled along he looked down and saw a pint-size girl stand’n there along his way. Her tear-streaked face looked up at him through the saddest brown eyes he’d ever seen. “Can you help me mister?” She asked with a voice that pulled him right into her.
   He smiled and nodded. “What can a tired old man like me do to help a beautiful ballerina like you, little one?”
   In her outstretched hands was an exquisitely designed music box. It was polished and delicate and broken. “This is my momma’s only possesssion. It means a lot to her but it broke and now it won’t play. I’m trying to get it fixed so I can give it to her again for Christmas. Can you help me?”
   The old guy studied the music box and his face spread into a grin. “Of course I can, little one. It’ll be good as new by nightfall.” With that the old guy dug in his tote bag and found what he was looking for. A few hours later he handed the music box back to it’s young owner.
   “You fixed it! You fixed it! Thank you, Mr!”
   He gave her a hug before being on his way. “No need to thank me, little one, just promise me you and your mom will do all ya can to spread a little Christmas cheer around and call me Santa. All my friends do.”
   The old guy resumed his migration, but the memory of the day kept crowding his mind. This was his destiny. It was what he was intended to do. There was a world full of people need’n a help’n hand and who better than the old Santa Man to reach out and do what he could?
   He reached his destination and there, just as he’d promised he would be, was the old hippy’s spirit guide, another old soul with long gray hair and piercing gray eyes that peered straight into the bowels of eternity. Andrew smiled as he listened to the Santa Man’s proposal to stay behind and devote himself to spreading some special cheer with the beginning of each winter solstice.
   As the two sat shuck’n and jivin’ together the sound of a train whistle echoed in the distance. A few minutes later a sleek, black locomotive appeared pulling seven rail cars behind. Santa looked up, his eyes wider’n a couple’ve pie plates. “Damnit man, what IS this?”
   Andrew reached over and put his hand on the big guy’s shoulder. “Be cool my friend. There’s someone here to keep you some company.”
   The old Santa Man’s eyes filled with tears of joy as he saw his beloved Mrs Clause stepping down from the railcar. She ran to the big guy, threw her arms around him and whispered in his ear. “Merry Christmas Santa Man. There ain’t no way your doin’ this gig without me along. We got a deal?”
   The big guy’s smile was all the answer she needed. Well....his smile and the feel of his hand on her butt.