The really true story on how Rudolph got his red nose

 

The true story on how Reindeer Rudolph got is red nose

It's Christmas again and the usual carols are being crooned around the malls and many other public places – not to mention around the office. People are changing their ring tones on their various i4 or i7 phones. You just can't escape the carolling of 'Frosty the Snowman' and Snoopy seems to be locked in an eternal reliving of his one glorious (so some say) victory over the Red Barron.

In any case one of the songs is all about the most famous reindeer – Rudolph. As the song goes Rudolph has a cold and thus a nice shiner of a nose – that saves the day and gides the rest of the team and Christmas sleigh. 

It is a common and well believed miss-conception. 

Let me tell you the story how he really got his shiner of a red nose.

Long time ago I sometime hung out with some friends in a run down, dark and sad looking little pub somewhere in Salzburg. On one of these occasions when I had walked in through the door, I found that the bar was empty, bar one sad, oldish, lonely looking and obviously semi drunk man. The bar keep just nodded in acknowledgement and gave me my usual drink, while raising his left bushy eyebrows and slightly inclining his head towards the only other patron in the bar – this being his 'signal' to be careful with the old guy and mindful of the conversation. As everywhere – it was advent and various Christmas tunes played in the back ground and I just settled into my drink and contemplated if my friends had forgotten our usual drinks night – when they played 'Rudolph the red nosed reindeer' through the sound system– to which and to my surprise, the old semi drunk guy I thought and what sounded somewhat derisively, just snorted. I slipped over and asked him if he did not like this particular song. The response from him was just a sad stare. Obviously he was not a really chatty kind of guy. He kept swirling his last little bit of beer round and proceeded to ignore me. I took this as a signal that any conversation had to be 'lubricated' so ordered 2 of whatever he had and asked the question again. Slowly the words came out and it became clear that I would only get the full story if there were more drinks involved – so ordered him another one of his drinks and for myself some strong coffee. So far I had nothing else to do but wait for my friends to arrive.

The chap – as it turn's out was a former reporter for one of the up and coming tabeloid news papers in the UK or somewhere over there, owned by some Australian chap named Rupert or Rudolph or something like that (he wasn't to specific on these details) and he insisted on making his mark in the news paper world with more and more unbelievable stories being published. This chap here – by his accounts – was THE top flight investigative news reporter and at the time was doing a story on Union movements across all and he meant all aspects of the workforce – including the elf’s and all other associated beings working in Santa Claus' workshop. He must have found out where Santa has his workshop I guess.

In any case – one of his contacts gave him a tip about a reindeer that can talk (probably more grunt) and thus sort of communicate with other people and said reindeer could be found somewhere in the Caribbean – possibly in Jamaica or St. Lucia. This chap, never to miss a beat, went to interview this “Reindeer'. Turns out, by his alcohol induced and slow rambling story, that the Union movement had gotten a foothold with the Reindeer's at the North Pole. This poor chap Rudolph never got a look into going out on the most important night of the year. He had to do all the training and stuff – but was never called upon to do the actual job. He must have felt like a spare tyre or something. Despite the local Union reindeer leader efforts and several meetings later– it was always the more older and experienced reindeer's that got the important job of pulling the sleigh with Santa and all the presents in it, and so it should be as you can only trust the senior Reindeer's to do a half decent job of delivering the Christmas gifts on time,every time, everywhere. So one year this Rudolph took matters into his own hands and went on strike – or more to the point left the place to go on holiday – somewhere in the warm tropics. After all what what was the point of doing all the training and then never being called upon to do the Christmas night run – something that, he told everyone that would listen to him, he could do in his sleep after all. He seemed to be very fond of telling that story to anyone in the bars and pubs, not that may would actually pay him any attention. A talking reindeer was just a bit to weird for most folks – so he drunk his cocktails mostly alone and enjoyed sunbathing on the warm sandy beaches of the Caribbean. The less popular side of the story was that Rudolph enjoyed his bacardi&coke just a tad too much. Northern reindeer that he is – he also forgot the power of the sun and ended up with a lof of sunburn – especially around his nose. After all how should a reindeer who works mostly at night during the darkest winter hours know about the effects of the sun in the tropics? So folks in the tropics were not to sure how much of a sunburned red nose he had. Suffice to say – it was a real shiner.

By now my talkative chap at the bar had several drinks, and told the story how he tracked down Rudolph and over the course of several days work extracted his side of the story and the Union movement at Santa's workshop, only to get a surprise two days before Christmas when the reindeer didn't show up at the bar. In fact no one had seen him since that time – except for the barkeeper who muttered something about Rudolph talking into some fancy tiny wee gadget that reminded him of earlier communication devices from Star trek. Ever since then the reindeer had simply vanished. The barkeeper thought he overheard a jolly dark voice speaking to Rudolph and along with a lot of 'Hohoho' and 'I need you' and 'Fog' and more 'hohoho's' the beast just took of. He must have looked a real sorry sight for northern eyes – with his sunburned drunken red nose.

By now, my ex-reporter chap at the bar had a few to many drink – courtesy of my wallet and he started to feel sorry for himself. He kept on muttering about workplace conditions and Editors who didn't want to publish his story and being unjustly fired, and something along the lines of having a holiday in the Caribbean on the News-papers expense. One look at my friendly barkeeper told me all I needed to know - he just sighed and looked at the heavens with rolled eyes, indicating that this was just another drunk who schemed drinks from unsuspecting patrons – in this case myself.

From memory my buddies never showed up that night and it was late so I decided to head for home – somewhat poorer for the experience. Some weeks later that winter it made the news that a former reporter from the UK was found dead, having lived rough under a bridge. The cold and the alcohol has got to him. Among his few possessions was found one old and worn photograph of himself (obviously looking younger and healthier) and a Reindeer with a red nose on some tropical beach. It was quickly discarded as a fake. 

We will never know the full truth – makes you think though . . . .

Have fun