[Hallicrafters] A Halli-Day Tale To Make You Glow

[Duane Fischer, W8DBF]

   Quick, Hide The Atlas!  Here Comes Rudyard The Reindeer!


                                            Duane B. Fischer


     It seems like everybody who has ever licked a candy cane
knows who Rudolph The Red Nosed Reindeer is.  Well, except
maybe those anti-sugar freaks who have that perpetual
puckered look to their lips.  You know, like they sucked one
too many lemons!  But, almost nobody knows that Rudolph has
an identical twin brother named Rudyard.  He too had a
blinking beacon, but his mischievous nature kept him from
Santa's good graces.  Some literary dude, like Shakesphere,
said.  "Hell hath no fury like that of an angry woman".
Which clearly proves, that he didn't have a clue what
reindeer sibling rivalry was.  Nevertheless, this thorn in
the hoofs of the brotherhood made the Christmas eve of 1997
one that Santa will never forget!

     The annual television special about Rudolph depicts him
as a social misfit, because of his glowing red nose.
However, this genetic doplar radar quirk turned out to be
exactly what Santa Claus needed to guide his sleigh safely on
those snowy Christmas eves.  Rudyard, on the other hand,
spent his time using the built in flashlight for mischievous
purposes.  Mrs. Claus was really upset when she caught him in
the basement of the stable peeking through cracks in the
floor up the girl reindeer's skirts!  More than once, he was
responsible for buzzing a 747 and convincing the crew, and
passengers, that they had seen a UFO.  It was he who went to
the major toy maker, and tried to sell the manufacturing
rights to his body as the first illuminated reindroid flying
pet!  So, Rudyard quickly became an outcast among the
reindeer, and spent most of his time hanging out with some
disgruntled elf's who simply hated making toys.

     It was the day before Christmas eve and Rudyard was
absorbed in watching a video on magical illusions.  "How
could the magician be on the stage, vanish and reappear
running up the aisle of the auditorium?", he asked himself.
Rudyard scratched his head with a hoof, yawned and dozed off
still thinking.  Suddenly he awakened with a start, leaped to
his hoofs and shouted.  "A double!  He had to use an
identical double!"  An elf raised up on one elbow, picked up
a Coke can and flung it at him.  "Rudyard!  It's the middle
of the night and the rest of us are trying to sleep.  Now
snuggle down in your hay and shut up!"  Rudyard pulled the
can off one of his antlers where it was impaled and looked at
the grumbling elf.  "Say Hi to Snow White when you see her,
Grumpy.  Or is it snibbley?  No matter.  The next time you
fling a can at me, make sure it is empty.  That fizz makes a
mess of my hair." Rudyard had an idea and there wasn't much
time to put his plan into action.

     He sneaked into the North Pole communications center and
studied the flight plan.  Santa was using GPS, global
positioning satellites, to navigate.  Infrared sensors on the
satellites picked up the heat from Rudolph's glowing nose.
They computed the longitude and latitude of the sleigh and
transmitted the exact position to the GPS receivers aboard
the sleigh.  Santa could watch the landscape go by on his lap
top computer, just like the animation of a flight simulator.
A navigational error was almost impossible; regardless of
snow, sleet, fog or big city carbon monoxide haze.  It was
the perfect atlas that never became outdated or dog eared
from use.  Rudyard chuckled.  Santa didn't need brother
Rudolph to find his way anymore.

     Santa kissed Mrs. Claus, took a long sip of his gigantic
road Coke and belched.  It echoed off the ice castles, elf
igloos and Christmas mountain.  He chuckled jovially.  Mrs.
Claus was frowning and had her hands on her hips.  "Well
Santa," she said reproachfully, "At least the bull horn is
working, even if your manners are not!  Have a good trip."
The elf's were scurrying around, like mice at a cheese
tasting festival, making last minute toy cargo checks.
"Ready to fly Rudolph?", Santa shouted.  Rudolph flicked both
ears straight up and pawed the snow.  Santa smiled, climbed
into the sleigh and put an Elvis Christmas tape into the
surround sound stereo.  Next stop, Nome, Alaska.

     You have probably wondered just how Santa Claus manages
to deliver so many toys to so many children in just a few
hours.  Over the centuries, several elf's had worked out a
means of bringing time nearly to a stand still.  It was a
combination of applied physics from Einstein's space time
continuum theories and some magic Merlin the wizard had
conjured up to make the reindeer fly.  So, in a manner of
speaking, old Santa put in several months worth of real time
work while the children slept on Christmas eve.  He yawned,
drained the last of the hot chocolate from his favorite Santa
Claus mug and checked over the list of toys for the first
stop.

     All of a sudden the visions of sugar plums dancing in
his head turned into rotting apples being hurled at him by
throngs of screaming children.  Something didn't feel just
right to Santa.  He glanced at the navigational display and
his eyes got as wide as a beached white whale's buttocks!
What were they doing over New York city?  He keyed the
intercom.  "Rudolph?  What the heck is going on out there?
This is New York, not Nome!"

     "Give me a break, they both start with n!", came the
reply.  Santa knew that Rudolph was an excellent speller and
knew world geography like the hairs on his tail.  No big
deal, they still had plenty of time to make the deliveries.
He keyed in the proper city and poured himself some more hot
chocolate.  "I reset the tracking for Nome, Rudolph.  Relax
old friend, it's going to be a long night."

     Santa was munching on one of the two hundred and fifty
ham and Swiss cheese sandwiches Mrs. Claus had packed in his
lunch sack, when he felt the sleigh go into a dive.  He
looked up just in time to see a gigantic ice sculpture of
Frosty The Snowman dead ahead.  The sleigh slammed into it
with all the force of a sky diving elephant with no parachute
hitting the ground!  The sculpture vanished into a zillion
icicles that rained down on the quiet town like tiny falling
stars.  Santa banked the sleigh hard to the left and pulled
back on the reins to gain altitude.  He could see the
shattered ice carving below.  Frosty was missing from the
belly button up!  "Rudolph?  What the heck is going on?", he
shouted into the intercom.  "Sorry about that Santa.  It
wasn't New York, ut it was New Hampshire!  I am getting
closer.  Besides, I never cared much for that fat snowball
with a smelly corncob pipe anyhow!"  Santa squinted a the lap
top display.  This wasn't New Hampshire, it was Nevada!

     Before Santa could say anything, the sleigh suddenly
lost power and made an emergency landing.  He climbed out and
stomped up to Rudolph.  "This is sand, like in desert!  Not
snow, as in New Hampshire!  What happened to that marvelous
mental compass in your brain Rudolph?  What did you do?  Eat
so many Twinkies that your head is cream filled?"

     "I don't understand either, Santa.  There must be
something wrong with the GPS system."  Comet raised an
eyebrow and Prancer cleared his throat really loud.  Santa
looked at them a little puzzled.  "Is something wrong boys?",
he asked curiously.  Nobody said anything.  Dancer gave his
antlers a shake and bit Vixon on the buttocks.  Vixon swatted
Dancer between the eyes with his tail.  Before you could say,
Ho Ho HO, all of the reindeer were brawling with each other
on the sand.  Santa grabbed his valium stun gun, which he
always carried for dogs with teeth, and sprayed the area.
Reindeer dropped over like bowling pins on an alley.  What
was that sound?  "Rudyard?", Santa said incredulously.  "Look
what you've done!  Where is Rudolph?"  Rudyard hung his head
in shame.  "Apparently the light from my nose is on a
different heat wavelength than that of my brother.  The GPS
must have misread the location and given me incorrect
geographical markers.  As for Rudolph, well he is probably
still sound asleep.  I gave him some eggnog punch with an
herbal sleeping potion in it."  Santa glared at Rudyard and
then at the eight other reindeer just now staggering back to
their feet.  "Wonderful!  Just wonderful!  Here I am on
Christmas eve stuck in the southern Nevada desert with a lead
reindeer that doesn't know his nose from his rectum.  So what
am I supposed to do now about delivering the toys Rudyard?
Call Fed X?" Santa walked back to the sleigh still grumbling,
grabbed a coke from the cooler, gulped it down and belched
really loud.
Cupit looked at him, shook his head and chuckled.  "Hey
Comet?  Like wow!  Has Santa got the Siberian bull moose
mating call down to an art form or what!"

     Santa climbed out of the sleigh, kicked some sand into
the air with his black leather boots and glanced at his
watch.  He frowned deeply and ripped the wrapper of a candy
cane off.  He had computed the course correctly, but there
was no way that the GPS was going to work with the thermal
variation of Rudyard's nose.  There would be a lot of unhappy
children in a few hours when they discovered emptiness under
their Christmas trees.  Empty stockings and broken hearts.  A
tear rolled down Santa's rosy cheek and disappeared into his
snow white beard.  He waddled over to a cactus and was
watering it, when the reindeer started to cheer.  He turned
to see what was going on and nearly filled his boot!  Out of
the night sky descending through the twinkling stars came a
blazing red beacon.  It was Rudolph!

     He buzzed the sleigh once with nose blinking and
electronic harness bells jingling.  On his second pass, he
made a textbook perfect four point landing right beside
Santa.  Rudolph gave him a lick up the side of the head,
knocked his quadfocals off and snatched the rest of the half
eaten candy cane from Santa's lips.  Old Santa Claus had a
smile on his face big enough to park a Toys R Us semi in!
"Great holly berries!", he exclaimed.  "Boy, am I glad to see
you!  How did you find us?"  Rudolph glanced sideways at his
twin brother.  He pranced over, bit him on the ear and threw
him on the sand.  Then he tickled his belly with a hoof until
Rudyard barfed.  "If you ever put Exlax in my eggnog again,
I'll sell you to a dog food company as a protein source!
Besides nearly pooping myself to death, Christmas was nearly
ruined!  Just think of all those children who wrote Santa a
letter who would have awakened to nothing under the Christmas
tree except socks and underwear.  Get over there and
apologize to Santa before I tickle you until you barf your
tail out!" Rudyard wiped the tears from his eyes, gagged once
or twice and staggered over to a bewildered Santa.  "I'm
sorry for calling you the bearded one with the bloated belly
from the north.  I'm also sorry for turning this
Christmas eve into a sour memory like the one that comes from
eating fermented fruit cake.  I am also sorry for being
jealous of Rudolph.  It's not his fault that he is so
talented.  I'm also sorry ..."  "Thank you Rudyard.",
interrupted Santa.  "That's enough!  This isn't a
confessional! Get off your knees and stop slobbering all over
my boots!"  Rudolph stuck his nose into the cockpit of the
sleigh and checked the GPS receivers.  "Alright Santa.", he
shouted.  "Let's deliver some toys and stuff some stockings!"
 Santa climbed into the sleigh, buckled his seat belt and
reset the trip odometer.  He glanced out the window and saw
Rudyard standing there, ears down and looking like a teenage
boy who just got dumped by his girlfriend.  "Rudyard!", he
shouted.  "Hook your harness backwards to the rear of the
sleigh and use that nose of yours to warn off low flying
aircraft." The twinkle returned to his big brown eyes and he
scampered off with his nose blinking like a strobe light at a
rock concert.  Santa keyed the intercom.  "Alright Rudolph,
let's go visit those children who were naughty and nice!  Oh!
And Rudolph?  Before you lick me again, brush your teeth!
You have got a serious case of haymow mouth!"


Original: December 12, 1997


Duane Fischer, W8DBF - WPE8CXO
E-Mail: dfischer at usol.com
Hallicrafters web site: www.w9wze.net
HHRP web site: hhrp.w9wze.net