Published in the Trenton Times December 24, 2004

By Eva Loayza

TRENTON - Brian Hill became Santa under the kitchen sink of his parents'
home.

He was fixing the plumbing. A hippie at the time, he had long hair and a matching beard. He happened to be wearing a red shirt that day.

``It was a hot July day. My glasses had slid down, I looked up at my mom, and asked, `How is that?' And she said `Don't move.' I thought there was a spider on me,'' said Hill.

``She came running back with a mirror and said, `Look, you're Santa' and I went, `Oh my God, look at that.' ''

That was about 20 years ago. The hair and beard are both gray now. The belly is a little fuller. But the red stuck.

A robust man with pretty blue eyes and a hearty laugh, Hill is director of The Trenton City Museum by day and St. Nicholas on December nights.

Hill loves the way children and even adults react to seeing him in his
holiday outfit: `` `Santa!'

``It's the very best.''

Hill got his start in the Santa trade after sharing the sink story with a
couple of people who then asked him if he could dress up as Santa Claus for their children.

He started with a rented costume, later brought his own and then had his sister, a costume designer, make him a candy-cane red suit. She also made him a crimson suit to add to his wardrobe.

``That's when it changed from being a costume to regalia,'' he said. ``I changed.''

Over the years, Hill has complemented the suit with some peculiar touches. ``I have been very particular about everything. I can't let a child doubt
anything,'' said Hill sternly.

Attached to each one of his boots is a picture of him hand-cast in bronze. The same picture adorns his belt and the magic key that ``lets me into all the homes without chimneys.''

He points out all three accessories when curious little minds inquire
whether he's the real Santa.

``I say, `You've seen a lot of Santas, the helpers that have the square
belt buckles?' And they say `Yes.' And this is my joke: (I tell them) they are my subordinate clauses,'' said Hill. His wife Linda, a proofreader, came up with the line.

When children persist, ``But Santa, your beard isn't long enough and your hair is not white enough to be the real Santa,'' Hill tells them they are thinking of his father.

``For me, my dad was the real Santa, so again, no lies, always the truth. It's critical,'' said Hill.

He works private events and parties, nursery schools and charities. He said he hasn't hit the malls yet because of his ``regular'' job, but
considers doing so in the future.

He also plans to expand beyond the Santa chair. He said next year will bring his own line of Christmas ornaments, and he is currently working on pitching commercial ideas to Coca-Cola and the Got Milk campaign.

And then there is the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade.

To be Santa at the parade ``would be the ultimate,'' said Hill. ``All of
us who do this know that's the Santa _ that's Santa! There is no
question.''

Hill watches the parade every year while preparing Thanksgiving dinner. He has noticed they've had the same Santa for the last couple of years, but Hill knows he wasn't always there. So there is hope, said Hill, and a lot of work to get to the coveted spot.

He called Macy's to ask how to apply for the job but was told he couldn't because they have the real Santa. When he asked where he could send his resume, he was told the same thing.

But he is not discouraged. He knows there has to be another way. Maybe through an agent. ``If I had just had one interview,'' Hill thinks to himself.

Relatively speaking, he is still quite young at 53. His hair is still not
pure white. ``To be Santa in the Macy's Day Parade you can't be a young guy. That just doesn't fly. I look at it this way: It's not my turn yet; some day it will be,'' said Hill.

In the meantime, he networks. He met N.Y. Sen. Hillary Rodham Clinton at a fund-raising event. She autographed his copy of her book and he gave her an autographed picture. ``She is the senator from New York, the parade is in New York; it's a first step,'' said Hill.

Most important, he's been told he makes the best Santa. And he's checked out some of the competition at a Santa-for-hire Web site and is not impressed.

``Some Santas have a nice twinkle, nice glasses, and even a decent beard. But then you pan back and they've buttoned their thing incorrectly or their belt is over here and they have plastic over their shoes,'' said Hill in disbelief. ``Come on men!''

Hill is often recognized as Santa while out and about, regardless of the season. He said he's had kids pull up chairs next to him at restaurants to chat about how good they've been. When he comes across a child who is acting unruly, he looks over the top of his glasses, and tells them, ``You know I'm watching, right?''

As Santa, he encounters all types of children. Some are aggressive and greedy; others are just adorable. One little girl asked him for a credit card with a $10,000 credit limit. One little boy, admiring his belt, told him, in modern vernacular, ``Santa, that's some serious bling around your waist.''

Another little girl simply asked that her mom have enough presents for Christmas.

Hill lives for those moments. He has always been a big fan of the
Christmas spirit.

For the Hill family, the Christmas celebration began on Thanksgiving
weekend. The children would mix ivory liquid and poster paint and decorate the windows to make them look like stained glass. ``Mom hated it, it was a mess to clean, but it made us feel very close as a family,'' said Hill.

``After 20 years of doing this you learn how to teach children to nurture this wonderful spirit, that when they look at you there is this look of magical belief,'' he said.

``I've had adults say to me, `Why continue to do this, to perpetuate this story?' and I say it very simply: `Why not?' This concept of giving a little something to help people is real, and so why not?''