No snow in Hanoi this year. Nice and windy, though, and this is the first time I've worn a jacket in over five years. (I recently moved from Chiang Mai, Thailand.)
Christmas Eve, in the evening, in the apartment building where we live, I rode down in an elevator with Santa Claus. Tall, thin, white beard and mustache, freshly pressed red suit looking very crisp. Iím definitely older and fatter. He waved at me and said "hello" in English.
Ten minutes later, time to ride back up the elevator. When it opened, a large gorgeous Husky with a lovely new blue leash dragged the human out, out, out. I donít know which startled the thickly muscled Vietnamese man more, the sight of this foreigner in short sleeves and wild hair, or the way that dog yanked him outta there.
It occurred to me later in the evening that Santa Claus is very cool. Not the one in the elevator, although he's cool too. But the other Santa, the one with the sleigh and the goodies. Earlier in the day, I got lost bicycling to the bookstore. Santa never gets lost. But I didnít put that on Twitter because itís kinda predictable. Arenít you glad you read Foo?