I, Santa Chaper One: Four things

   So if there's one fact you should know about me it's this: I'm smart. Now I don't mean that in a cavalier or condescending way, it's the opposite in my case. You see this genius thing has plagued a substantial portion of my life. Alec Simon Skaletski, that's what people call me, you know my name. Yes, it's hard for me to pronounce too. Mom and Dad seem to like it, though, including me being brilliant. Back to my name for just one second: my initials are A.S.S. Don't you think parents should avoid naming their genius son an ASS? Or is it just me? Well, this ass first discovered he was smart when he was four-years-old and scored off the charts for cognitive ability. After that, I was a genius so with no other choice people tested me at least ten times a week. What else are you going to do with a toddler prodigy?  

   Currently, while I'm writing this, I'm no fan of testing. While I really can't remember being four years old, I doubt that there is any scenario that I was a fan of test taking at such a young age. What four-year-olds do you know that likes tests? Okay fine, if I were a greedy capitalist motherfucker then I would want to make money from testing kids. With no other options, I took and aced every test they threw at me. Naturally, at five years old I got a twenty-four hundred on the SATs, and everybody told me how amazing I was. My parents and the rest of my family were ever-so-elated to brag about their genius genes. I didn't get anything out of it except boredom, but they got to brag. So it didn't take long before I figured a way to turn it around on them. They didn't think a five-year-old could do that, hell, no one did. Then again no one thought a five-year-old could test as well as I did. A week after I took the SATs. I asked my parents what they had scored when they were in high school. Dad got a thirteen-hundred while my Mom got a fifteen-hundred. Thus, I deduced that I was smarter than them, and no longer had to listen to and obey their commands. Man, they were pissed. I mean no little kid should have to hear their father call them a little fucking god-damn smart-ass genius. It scars a child.

   Thus they no longer, especially given my wit, liked tests. They did, however, after I told them I wasn't going to college and just wanted to be a typical kid, demand that I make a life plan. A five-year-old making a life plan seemed illogical given what little life experience I had. They inexplicably turned it around on me and told me to come up with a better proposal. When I couldn't, I succumbed and made a list of five things I wanted to accomplish in my life.

   You might think that the list would include things like going to the moon, being a superhero, shaving all the hair off a goat or other such nonsensical things. But I was a rather nonsensical kind of lad, so I made a list of sensible things. Funny how that works out, huh.

   I commenced school just like every other kid in the UP. Oh yeah, the UP is upper peninsula Michigan. It's where I live - if you didn't figure that out - in a small town called Town. Town is ten miles north of Marquette, Michigan, yes the town is called Town. I tried to look up its origins once but found nothing, my only conclusion being that the founders were horribly unoriginal and even worse record keepers. Trying to ignore the local history I just accepted that I was a Yooper from Town and that is where I had to accomplish my life goals. My list started out rather slowly as I was mostly interested in cartoons and reading so I could become a certified smart-ass. Most people don't realize this but the “smart” part of “smart-ass” is the harder part. Mostly because when you're smart you constantly correct people, and they see you as an ass, forgetting the intelligent half of the equation.

    It wasn't until the age eight when attending TES(Town Elementary School) that I accomplished the first thing on my list. One day while Larry and I were walking through the forest in his backyard. Oh, Larry Tinder is my best friend - more on him later. In the forest, we found a rather stalwart Sycamore. After a little debate, Larry and I decided to ascend to the top of the tree. Yes, that was number one on my list, I had to start somewhere. Why not at the top, literally the top of a tree. The ascent was perilous, but Larry helped me all the way, he was physically fit and always too helpful for his livelihood. I, on the other hand, was gawky, awkward and clumsy. Maybe you could look at number one as strengthening a friendship - it's all about perspective.

   So that was age eight, second grade, and I already had one goal knocked off my list. Also during that year, while completing my dad's “mandatory” reading list, I stumbled across a fellow named Peter Higgs.  His theory of the Higgs particle greatly interested me, so I began researching it, and within a couple of months I disproved its existence. Now don't get all PC on me and tell me I that I'm lying. I know the large Hadron proved its existence, just listen to the end of the story. Number three on my list was to publish a paper, story or book. When I had enough evidence to prove my theory I sent it to a peer-reviewed journal and they published it. Two weeks later, however, a scientist in Norway found an error in my math and disproved my data. Eh, didn't bother me, I didn't want to change the world I just wanted to get something published, and the Higgs was my current obsession.

   In the long run, my published research did have some positives for me. Apparently, my parents were incredibly gratified by my accomplishment, and it destroyed them when I had to retract it. Someone once told me that it hurt their pride – I guess I might understand that if I ever have kids. With their pride hurt, they stopped putting pressure on me to finish my list.  Naturally, like any other little kid, it took a couple of years before I could cross something else off my list again.

   It was sixth grade when I first kissed a girl. No, no I really can't back that up, just wanted to see if you were still paying attention. When I was in sixth grade, I started at TMS (Town Middle School), and in seventh grade, I crossed another item off my list. Item number two: Save another life. Now I was only five when I wrote this list. At that age, I didn't see the virtue that saving a life was, but I liked all the medical shows on TV. All I wanted was to be was suave and smart-assed like all those TV doctors. As it turns out - saving a life can change your life. It didn't change mine; I was just saying in general. It did get me thinking about fate, though.

   It was my thirteenth birthday. I was finally a teenager! I never really saw the upside of labeling someone, a teen, but the label did save a life. I lived about a mile and a half from TMS and my parents, who were not as smart as me, in all their wisdom had decided that I would not be allowed to walk home from school until I was thirteen. This decision seemed stupid to me because the bus ride was an hour and the walk was only twenty minutes. The people dumber than me, though,  thought walking home at a young age was not safe. Fucking The Old People. My first day walking home I arrived to find Noble, our pet mutt, in our driveway covered in blood. I quickly reached for my cell only to remember my parents told me I couldn't get one till I was fifteen. Damn. So I ran inside and called 911 from our land line. They sent a pet ambulance and the doctors bandaged up Noble.

   I was pleased with myself because, after Larry, Noble was my favorite person. The Town Gazette ran a short story about a young “Teenager” who saved the family dog. The local Towners were impressed with my act of heroism and our phone rang non-stop for a week. Yoopers called from all over to congratulate me. This town was uncommonly tiny and prosaic. My parents hmm, that was a little different story. My parents were, of course, happy that I saved Noble but... Oh, you knew the but was coming. Today was my birthday remember, and it was also this day that they decided I was mature enough to be told that I was going to be an older brother. I had never been an older brother so I couldn't get excited about the news. To be quite honest I was upset everyone had forgotten my birthday. Not to mention that I had crossed off another item on my list. I had two accomplishments and all everybody cared about was this damn fetus. I could already tell this kid was going to be aggravating,

   I mean My parents had downright thrown me a party when I completed my second task, now on my birthday they were utterly vapid. Maybe that's what being a teenager is: trying your best and never getting credit for anything. I think I'm going to copyright that. What I can say is that despite everything that was going on, I was rather pleased with myself for playing a vital role in saving Noble's life. It was this moment that I first thought that the list my parents had forced me to make all those years ago might have a practical purpose. I was still a teenager, so no I did not respect them. But, hey you know, maybe there was something to the strange things parents had you do.

   It was a couple of weeks after my birthday. So sue me I can't remember dates. I'll start reciting pi if you want me, I can do it to three thousand digits. Or just accept this as one of my faults. I sat down to take a look at my list and realized I was now at number four. My fourth thing was to figure out my fifth thing. Now in my “prudent” teenage years I felt that needed to change. I needed a new number four and just make number five TBD.

   I pooped on my parents at the county fair when I was three. Sorry daydreaming. Daydreaming is precisely how I found the fourth task on my list, nice segue right. It happened in the middle of sixth-period science. I wasn't paying attention. I had already read the textbook and a couple of college geology texts just for fun. I was just sitting there staring at an extremely attractive Janet Penson – I was a horny boy what else do you want. When all of a sudden I was inspired to kill a man, which got me thinking about death. Then I started thinking about my death, which is when I remembered the ten death threats I had gotten in the last week. They weren't dangerous or anything, just regular intimidation between teenage idiots. I never understood why people didn't like me for being smart. For some reason when left with a choice of studying to get better grades or pick on the smart kid they always chose to pick on the smart kid. Thus, I decided number four should be something completely irrational as to fully gain the teenage experience.

   The next day I called up Larry and told him I wanted to run for public office. Being a politician seemed irrational enough to me. While it wasn't real public office – Class president seemed as close as I could get at my current age. Irrationally Larry was an expert in this and in about nothing else that I understood. He understood how mechanical things worked; I knew how learning worked. Larry's father, Mr. Tinder, as I called him, was on the Town city council and had run for governor when Larry and I were still in diapers. Ahh diapers I miss the days of pooping in my pants. We quickly found out that I actually couldn't become class president until we were in high-school. TMS didn't have a student council and therefore did not need a president.

   After relaying all this to my parents, first, they were horrified by my interest in politics. I was after all their innocent teen boy. I eventually convinced them that if I were to go into politics, it should be when I was young so that I could learn my lesson and not have my adult/professional life permanently

scarred by such an endeavor.

   Entering high school was, despite all the build up, a rather uneventful event. Yeah, that’s the best I can do, to sum up, high-school.  I mean, after all, it was just another building filled with classrooms, desks, and putrid smelling teenagers. Besides, who didn't love all the boobs? So many boobs every direction you looked. The year started in late August, and the class elections occurred in mid-October. I got together with Larry, and we planned our class president campaign. The biggest challenge we deduced was that no one knew who I was, and those who did just knew me as the smart kid. The dog-saving fame was now long-gone now. Town had moved on to The Mechanic, who had moved from Slovenia to start a new life in America. Larry and I decided we would sell my image on sex appeal, or we needed some women on our campaign. I didn't write the rules; I'm just smart enough to know them and how to exploit them. Recruiting started off slow and quickly became a nightmare.