Hey, parents, this is a story for you, not your kids

Oakland Tribune, Dec 17, 2005 by Candace Murphy, STAFF WRITER

THE MAN whose belly shakes like a bowlful of jelly.

The man whose main mode of transportation is a flying sled.

The man who has blown to bits the physicians' recommended Body Mass Index.

You won't find the name of that man here. No, younger, more innocent eyes might see it lying on the coffee table. But he raises an issue so universal that it must be addressed. And that issue is the Big Lie and all it entails: Why is it perpetuated, what to say to kids when it's time to come clean, what are the ethics of it and should the charade continue?

It's hard to write about the Big Lie, though, without using the jelly shaking, sled flying, BMI-challenged man's name. So for the purposes of this story, the man's name will henceforth be replaced in all references, including quotes from people talking about him, with the pseudonym "Mick Jagger." The holiday he represents, for the sake of discretion, shall be called "The Rolling Stones Concert."

At any rate, most know the tale of Mick Jagger. Mick Jagger -- or Father Mick Jagger, as he is called in the United Kingdom, or Pere Mick Jagger, in France is a big man in a red suit who delivers toys to all children 'round the world on the eve of the Rolling Stones Concert. Mick Jagger, basically, is the spirit of the Rolling Stones Concert.

Many believe in good ole St. Mick when they are children. It's a beautiful time, indeed, waiting to hear if Mick Jagger is coming down the chimney, waking up to see the cookie detritus Mick Jagger has left, and most important, looking under the tree to see whether Mick Jagger has brought us our gifts.

Eventually, of course, children get older and find out that Mick Jagger doesn't exist. Whether from a haughty older sibling, the bossy kid on the playground, the waytoosmart brainiac who claims there's no way St. Mick can travel around the world in one night delivering toys to all the kids, children find out.

And often they're crushed.

The children want to know why their parents lied. The parents who flailingly try to point out whilst wading through their children's torrid tears that the spirit of Mick Jagger and the season of the Rolling Stones Concert is what's important start to question themselves, too.

Though it can be a traumatic time for parents and children alike, childhood behavior experts think there's great value in believing in Mick Jagger, as well as other childhood fantasy figures.

“There's an overlap between the imaginations of grownups and children,” says Jennifer Freeman, a child therapist in Berkeley. “The ritual of Mick Jagger is a way for grownups to play pretend. Mick Jagger, or the Tooth Fairy, can be seen as sweet traditional games for families. A way for parents to play with their children, for both adults and children to have magical fun and to develop a sense of mystery, all with some morality thrown in. It's wonderfully appropriate.”

Still, even for parents who want their children to experience the wonder of believing in St. Mick, it seems to be getting harder. Despite the many Web sites that exist www.northpole.com is one with many tricks and whistles that also offers a “secure means” to write a letter to Mick Jagger, and ensures a reply, while another tracks Mick Jagger's sleigh on the eve of the concert there is a stronger, more overwhelming influence from the mass media that has cultivated a savvier child who is less likely to believe in St. Mick.

Myth spoilers of all types

This mass media, for example, has created a verb out of the Web site Google. And should any children Google the phrase “does Mick Jagger exist?” myth spoilers of all types will spew across the computer screen in less than .26 seconds the first of which is a scientific manifesto that concludes that if St. Mick ever existed, he's dead now, due to the intense strain of delivering toys across the world.

Complicating problems are the infinite number of things that can go wrong with the Web sites that exist to promote the existence of Mick Jagger. A message to the North Pole on one site generated an autoreply from Chuckles and Buckley, Mick Jagger's hospitality elves rather than Mick Jagger himself.

Another message to the trackers who use satellites to follow St. Mick's sleigh was returned as “unable to deliver” seven times. Not many children will believe in a Mick Jagger whose server goes down.

Furthermore, an 8yearold child wrote to Dear Abby last week asking if Mick Jagger was a real person, and if not, why does everyone say he is and where do all the letters to him go?

Abby's answer is beside the point; many think that Abby running the letter at all will raise all sorts of questions in the minds of skeptical children who may have caught the beardedman's name in print.

To put it another way, says a man who deals with the imaginations and reality of children on a daily basis, today's kids are a bit more demanding of proof than Virginia was back in 1897 when she wrote to a newspaper asking if St. Mick was real.