Could Santa have found a better sleigh?

Despite some annoying quirks, the Audi A3 may just have what it takes for a guy like Saint Nick

Dec 26, 2009

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Special to the Star

I have always been a night owl, staying up way too late, getting up way too late.

In my younger days, I hoped to turn that into an actual sighting of Santa Claus. That dream started to fade when reality settled upon me.

But on Christmas Eve night, I heard not the prancing and pawing of each little hoof, but someone clattering about in my driveway.

I sprang to my doorway (can't see the driveway from my window) to see what was the matter.

And there he was, Santa Claus his own self, nosing about the Audi A3 parked in said driveway.

Knowing I had nothing to dread, I went outside.

"Hey SC, what's up?" I asked.

"Oh, just admiring this little sled you've got here. Been wondering if maybe mine is past its best-before date. It's a couple of thousand years old, you know. This one's at least the right colour."

"It's an Audi A3 hatchback," I replied. "They even call the colour `brilliant red,' not some stupid marketing name like `Santa Nose Cherry.'"

"Looks nice," said the jolly old elf, smiling. "Lots of room inside?"

"Yes, and the rear seat back split-folds for more storage. Not sure if it'd be big enough for your needs though."

"I've never revealed the secret about how I get toys for about three billion boys and girls into that miniature sleigh of mine. I think I could make it work.

"One thing I really like about it: it is not a convertible. Nobody ever talks about that, how bleedin' cold it gets! I mean, come on – North Pole, and the sleigh doesn't even have a windshield, fer cryin' out loud! You know, I'm really not fat – I just have to wear every piece of clothing I own when I'm flying that thing."

"You're right, I never thought about that," I answered. "This one even has electrically heated seats!"

"You wouldn't josh with me now, would you?" said Saint Nick.

"Nope. Some new cars these days even have heated reins – er, steering wheels."

"Wow!"

"So, how many reindeer does it take to pull this thing?" I asked.

"Horses, actually, and I'm not sure what the conversion factor is. The number depends on, um, which feed you use. You can get one with 200 horsepower, feeding the horses with gasoline. Or, like this one, 140 horses on diesel fuel, which sounds like it'd be slower. But they are stronger horses, with more torque – more pulling power – which might be just the trick for getting that load airborne off the top of the porch or the top of the wall."

"It's a `clean diesel,' too, with very low exhaust emissions," I told him, "which means it's good for the environment."

"Hah!" snorted Santa. "You have no idea about exhaust emissions until you've flown a million kilometres or so behind eight, sometimes nine, reindeer. They may be tiny, but man, the hay those things go through. Methane gas? Whee-yoo-wee!"

"Speaking of eight or nine reindeer," I interjected, "you could probably put Rudolph out to pasture – the lights on the little Audi are excellent.

"But you'd better hope it doesn't rain – like a lot of new cars, this one has all-rubber wiper blades which are supposed to conform more closely to the curves on the windshield. And like all the cars I've driven with them, they aren't worth the powder to blow them to ..."

"Hey!" cried Santa. "This is supposed to be a sacred night!"

"Sorry. But while I'm complaining I better mention the automatic door locks. Huge pain in the ..."

"Uh-uh," he said, wagging his finger not aside of his nose but right in my face.

"... Um, pain in the posterior, because every time you go over 15 km/h the doors all lock, and next time you stop you have to unlock them again. Same with the hatch lid. It'd drive you nuts, especially when you're stopping, what, three billion times tonight?"

"Who would design such a stupid thing?"asked the Gift Giver, quite understandably.

"No idea," I said, "but I think it might have something to do with American lawyers. Geez; you want the doors locked? Push the flippin' button for button for ..."

"Uh-uh ..."

"... For goodness sake. Some cars let you disable this irritating feature yourself, but with this car you have to go to a dealership.

"There's one other huge drawback to the diesel," I added.

"You can't get it with four-wheel drive – it's front-drive only. I don't know if there's a technical reason for that. Maybe the four-wheel drive mechanism doesn't `package' with the diesel engine. You know, sort of like some of your toys where Tab A just does not go into Slot B."

"Um, well, yes, sorry 'bout that. Some things do get lost in translation," he said.

"I, of course, am used to 32-cloven-hoof drive. You'd think four-wheel drive and the diesel would be the ideal combination."

"You would and I would," I said with a sigh.

"But it wouldn't be the first time car marketers – Volkswagen especially – did something that seems deliberately obtuse. They have people called `product planners' who apparently talk to the dealers, who then tell them which combinations of equipment are likely to sell the best. It's just that they never seem to agree with me, nor with a single soul I talk to. Guess we travel in different circles."

"Volkswagen?" inquired Santa. "I thought you said this was an Audi?"

"Same difference," I replied.

"Audi is the upscale brand of Volkswagen, sort of like Toyota-Lexus or Nissan-Infiniti. Similar gear, only dipped in gold. You can get basically the same mechanical gubbins in a Volkswagen Golf for thousands less than the $38,000 base sticker on the A3."

"So why would I go for the Audi?"

"Better-finished interior, mainly. Audi does the nicest interiors in the business."

"Well, I do spend a lot of time in my rig, even if only once a year."

"Which I guess should be your exit line – you've got a long night ahead of you!"

"You're right," he said to me.

Then turning to his reindeer who were starting to demolish the shrubbery around my house, he called, "On Comet, on Cupid, on Donner and Blitzen.

"Get going, you lazy sods! This might be your last trip!"

And I heard him exclaim as he drove out of sight: "Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!"

Toronto Star