Interview with a holiday icon

Over the course of my career I’ve had the opportunity to interview let’s say thousands of interesting people. I’m like the Barbara Walters of my generation, though not nearly as foxy. Some of these people have been politicians, some heads of state, others celebrities. Few are as fun as when I have the opportunity to have a chat with real icons.

This year I had the rare opportunity to interview Frosty T. Snowman. Here is the transcript for your reading pleasure.

Me: “Hello, Mr. Snowman. Thanks for your time.”

Frosty: “Happy birthday!”

Me: “…Riiiight. It’s not my birthday, but OK. That’s always nice to hear.”

Frosty: “Sorry, I do that to everybody. It’s a compulsive habit. Oh, and you can call me Frosty.”

Me: “Thanks, Frosty.”

Frosty: “Before we get started, I wanted to thank you for agreeing to meet me here.”

Me: “No problem. I conduct all my interviews in grocery store walk-in coolers.”

Frosty: “What’s that? I’m afraid you’ll have to speak up. The kids that made me — and as sound of a job as they did — neglected to craft ears. For some reason, most kids forget to make ears.”

Me: “That’s unfortunate. Speaking of your features, most snowmen have carrot for a nose, yet you have a button. Do you feel self-conscious about that?”

Frosty: “On the contrary. You know how people use the expression ‘that’s as cute as a button?’ Well, my nose IS a button, so it’s gotta be ultra sexy. Plus, I’d hate to smell vegetables every day. I don’t know how other snowmen handle that. Also, on what planet does a carrot resemble a nose?”

Me: “OK, I gotta ask; is your hat really magic?”

Frosty: “Oh yes. I’m not David Blaine. Though I sometimes get mistaken for Penn Teller.”

Me: “Can I see it?”

Frosty: “My hat? I could, but then I’d no longer be alive, which is problematic.”

Me: “Oh that’s right. It’s your hat that gives you life. Given to you by children who made you, if memory serves.”

Frosty: “That’s right. Not bad for a hat they found in the garbage. Though I can still smell old coffee and moldy Ho-Hos.”

Me: “Ho-Hos? That’s what Santa says!”

Frosty: “Cute.”

Me: “Thank you.”

Frosty: “Yes, it was the hat of a particularly surly stage magician.”

Me: “Do you like it?”

Frosty: “Do you like your mom?”

Me: “I’m sorry?”

Frosty: “Your mom gave you life, as my hat did me. Sure, sometimes I wish it was a little more fashionable — I can really pull off a fedora — but it’s part of my identity. Changing it now would be like Woody Allen losing the glasses or Johnny Depp without his scarves and man bracelets. It’d be weird.”

Me: “Do you like your name? What’s with ‘the’ as your middle name?”

Frosty: “Frosty Snowman sounds unnecessarily redundant and could be misconstrued for a human person’s name. Adding “the” to it helps clarify that I’m, you know, a snowman. I’ve been to plenty of job interviews where human resources left off my middle name. Let’s just say it leads to … uncomfortable situations.”

Me: “Wait a second, you have a job?”

Frosty: “Of course. Being a magical snowman doesn’t exactly pay the bills — especially in this economy. Of course, the royalties from the movie and song help. I’m a janitor at ice skating rinks. Why do you think I carry this broom around?”

Me: “Well, I always did wonder about that.”

Frosty: “I have considered changing my first name.”

Me: “You have? To what?”

Frosty: “Shamus.”

Me: “Moving along, what do you say to your critics who think you’re nothing more than a tool for ‘big tobacco?’ That you target kids and try to get them hooked on corncob pipes?”

Frosty: “Happy birthday!”

Me: “Happy birthday? That’s not an answer. Come on, Frosty.”

Frosty: “OK. Honest answer?”

Me: “If you don’t mind.”

Frosty: “If you recall, it was the kids that put the pipe into my mouth in the first place. If there’s any blame here, it’s on the parents. Actually, when you think about it, I’m the victim here. But let me put an end to the speculation right here, right now. I can assure you the only thing that’s in my pipe is cotton candy.”

Me: “So it’s not a gateway drug?”

Frosty: “Only to chestnuts and Christmas cheer.”

Me: “Not to dwell on the negative, but you’re also a little on the husky side.”

Frosty: “I prefer to think of it as permanent holiday weight. I suppose I could shave off some with a shovel or something. But the last time I started down that road I ended up giving myself breasts.”

Me: “What are some of your biggest fears?”

Frosty: “The sun, snowblowers and Santa’s reindeer.”

Me: “Santa’s reindeer?”

Frosty: “They get bored during the year and think it’s hilarious to dive bomb me.”

Me: “Speaking of Santa, what is it you…do exactly?”

Frosty: ” When I’m not assisting my charity — Advocates For Creatures of Frozen Precipitation — I keep Santa company on his Christmas run by regaling him with facts about snow.”

Me: “Facts about snow.”

Frosty: “Just during the northern hemisphere run.”

Me: “Fascinating.”

Frosty: “For example, did you know that snow can come from any cloud that is layered?”

Me: “I take back the fascinating part.”

Frosty: “Right. And that’s the point. It encourages him to finish quicker.”

Me: “What are some of your dreams or aspirations?”

Frosty: “Well, sometimes I think about packing on 10 tons of snow, adding another couple of heads and enslaving the entire human race.”

Me: “I … um …”

Frosty: “Just messing with you. Nothing special — settling down with a snowwoman and having some snowchildren. Unfortunately magic hats aren’t easy to come by. So if you have one, please send it my way.”

Me: “Why haven’t we seen more of you in the last century?”

Frosty: “Global warming.”

Me: “Well, I can no longer feel my legs so I’m afraid we’re going to have to wrap up. It’s been a pleasure. Is there anything else you’d like to say?”

Frosty: “To everyone reading this … happy birthday!”


Kelly Van De Walle is the senior creative writer for Briscoe14 Communications. He can be reached at vandkel@hotmail.com or via Christmas presents. Lots of them. Also, he accepts checks. Follow Kelly on Twitter @pancake_bunny for more high-profile journalistic-type interviews with mythical creatures.