COMMENTS & CURIOSITIES:Yarns to spin tonight

I’m tense. And I’m not afraid to say it. This is an awesome responsibility. In fact, it’s a little scary. I assume you know this is Christmas Eve. Do you know what the chances are that I would be talking to you on Christmas Eve? You take 365 days, 366 in a Leap Year, then multiply that by four Sundays in, wait, five Sundays in some months and then, well — the chances are really slim.

I wanted to do something inspiring, something moving, something that you’d love and that would capture the spirit of the season and make you feel better about yourself and your neighbor. Then again I wanted to play center field for the Yankees. That didn’t happen either.

The inspiration thing was a bust, but here’s what I came up with: “Utterly Useless Information for Christmas, Hanukkah and Other Mid-Winter Celebrations.” The title’s a little long. We’ll get that fixed by next Christmas.

We begin.

“Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus.” You’ve heard it a million times (and can read it again on Page A14 of today’s Pilot). But answer me this — is there a Virginia? There isn’t anymore, but there was. Dr. Phillip O’Hanlon was the assistant coroner in New York City in 1897. That year, as Christmas drew near, O’Hanlon’s 8-year old daughter, Virginia, got her knickers all bunched up because her friends kept insisting there was no Santa Claus and giving her a hard time for believing there was.

One day, Virginia asked her father to clear things up once and for all — i.e., is there a fat guy with a long white beard in a bright red suit with white fur trim who flies around the world in a big sled pulled by flying reindeer and slips in and out of houses through the chimney which is totally weird when you consider the average chimney is about 18 inches wide — or not?

Being a smart doctor and an even smarter parent, O’Hanlon knew enough not to answer that question. He told his daughter to write a letter to the New York Sun, a major newspaper of the day, and assured her that if they answered her, in print, it would have to be true.

Apparently, things were different in 1897.

Virginia’s letter made its way to an editor at the Sun with the very impressive name of Francis Pharcellus Church, who not only answered Virginia’s question, but put it on the editorial page for all the world to see. Little did Francis Pharcellus Church know that he would become one of the most quoted, unnamed persons who no one ever knew.

Here is an excerpt from Church’s editorial: “Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus. He exists certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy. Alas! How dreary would be the world if there were no Santa Claus. It would be as dreary as if there were no Virginias!”

The Sun ran the entire editorial every Christmas for years, and even though Francis Church and Virginia O’Hanlon are long forgotten, those first seven words will be around forever.

Of course, Virginia isn’t the only famous Christmas name. How about the Three Wise Men? Can you name them? Tick, tick, tick, buzz. Time’s up, pencils down please.

Melchior, Balthasar and Caspar. Not the friendly ghost. That’s someone else. Who were they? They were assistant coroners in New York City. Wait, wrong story. They were Zoroastrian astrologers from Persia, which is a job title you don’t run into much anymore. Seriously. Next time you’re at a party, ask everyone you meet what they do. I bet not one person says, “I’m a Zoroastrian astrologer from Persia.”

But the best Christmas name in the entire history of Christmas names turned up just this week in an Associated Press story about a family in Gainesville, Ga. However big a fan of Christmas you think you are, you’re a rookie compared with these people. The patriarch of the family, Henry Christmas, was married in 1935 — on Christmas Day — to a woman named Mary. Henry and, yes, Mary Christmas, had lots of grandchildren, including yet another Mary Christmas, now 30, and her younger sister, whose name is Christy Noel.

The younger Mary Christmas told the Associated Press, “People ask me all the time, ‘What were your parents thinking?’ I never minded. It’s a conversation piece.”

Don’t get antsy. We’re just getting started.

Mary Christmas’ father, Robert Christmas, has a brother who married a girl named Cathy Holiday, who goes by Carol Holiday Christmas — and Bob’s sister, Jeane, married a man named White and goes by the name Jeane Christmas White.

I don’t know what it all means either, Virginia, but I can tell you this: If there is a Santa Claus, getting the right gifts in the right living rooms in Gainesville, Ga., must set him back an hour and a half, at least.

Here’s one more thing you’ve heard before. Clement C. Moore said it first, in 1823. “And laying his finger aside of his nose, and giving a nod, up the chimney he rose. He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle, and away they all flew like the down of a thistle. But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight, ‘Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night.’ ”

That’s it then. Every last thing you need to know about Virginia O’Hanlon, Caspar and Zoroastrian astrologers. Have the best holidays ever and be thankful your name isn’t Mary Christmas.

I gotta go.