The most frank monologue of Russian Santa in the federal media

Denis Petrenko sells in Bryansk craft beer. Maybe someone even considers this beer wonderful, but magic, as usual, is always in something else. The fact is that in the New Year Denis Petrenko becomes Bryansk Santa Claus. Fairytale forces attract him to this occupation for a long time, Petrenko had only managed to graduate from school when it began with him - and still does not let go. It is not clear why, how much and what exactly is required for such a miracle. What is his real composition: grandfather's memories of the war, trophy knife, football, river, welding, poems, silver month on the ass and staff from plum? You can never say for sure. But sometimes you can feel that yes - Santa Claus really exists. Because he is you. Preparing for your own new year, get acquainted with Petrenko’s thoughts on this score. Published for the first time.

"Closer to the intermission, a kerosene belching went"

I am the first in our family to be born in Bryansk. Before me, everyone was born in Kyiv, in the Kuban or in Vyshny Volochka. And my dad was born in Melitopol, but this is actually not informative, because his father, my grandfather, traveled a lot around the country, was a military man. A combat pilot, aviation colonel, with orders and medals. He fought, flew on heavy bombers to bomb Germany. Moreover, it is interesting that he did it from the very beginning of the war. Therefore, his stories were very dissimilar to those that we were told at school.

The bombers stood in a deep rear, and the pilots had no injuries or ordinary front -line problems: you simply either returned to the base or not. So the grandfather did not tell scary, but funny: how they argued with some kind of major with some kind of major-who would eat the cutlets more. Or there was a story, how new American planes received, and their anti -regards system worked on good pure alcohol. And somehow, before going to the theater, officers decided to drain a little alcohol in order to prepare for the influence of culture. And some wise guy had already diluted alcohol in the system with kerosene in advance. But, despite this, the mood was already too combat. They still drank, went to the theater. And it seems to be nothing, but closer to the intermission went to everyone with a kerosene belching, a commotion happened in the hall. These are the stories about the war in our family.

As a result of all these stories, my younger sister and I were born in Bryansk.

Therefore, I can safely say to myself that I am all disgusting Bryansky.

He grew up in the Old City, in an old two -story eight -sorted house. The ideal place for childhood is near the river and the military registration and enlistment office. You leave the house right in my underpants - and you go swimming. Or you go to the military registration and enlistment office with soldiers to cut in football. I was there, I remember, some other lieutenant colonel, and he had a trophy German knife-he taught us to throw him into the gate of the garage. It was cool. I went to school upstairs, on a hill, through the ravines. He was even an excellent student once - in the second grade, in the third quarter. And then I had the first three - by work. In the end, I graduated from school, normal - I had three three.

I went to study at a technical university so as not to go to the army, to the specialty "Equipment and technology of welding production." The institute was, one might say, family. My father studied there, and grandfather at one time taught scientific communism. But I became famous there, frankly, not much. Although what to complain - I am still a welder of the second category. I even have a transformer, I can do something, if necessary, sometimes fraught. But in general, I studied only two courses,

I got a conflict with a teacher in electrical engineering: I handed him a clean notebook and said that he did all the laboratory work, he just does not see them.

I had no chances to stay after that.

At the same time, from the fourth grade I regularly went to the theater circle, read poetry there. We had a house of culture of workers of some kind of industry and communal business enterprises there. That is, this circle is reading poetry-it was a huge practice of performances in the format of small concerts at lunchtime between machines in some sewing factory. And when you go out, and in front of you are three people who are not particularly needed, this is an excellent experience. It is necessary to attract their attention, and this is not easy.

I really liked such acting. Someone from our mug went this road further, achieved real fame and even starred in an advertisement for Lays chips. And I fell in love with Christmas trees. There were many of them in my life, every year. And kindergartens, and trolleybus depot, and even theaters. I was then mostly a small negative character of the performance, but I saw a lot of Santa Claus in my life - both good and bad.

"Before my eyes, Baba Yaga grown to the manager"

Who is Santa Claus? Santa Claus, as I think, is primarily an adult, mature person.

Although personally, I first went to people Santa Claus at sixteen or seventeen years old. It was at work at my mother at the project institute, they had a matinee, which they did on their own. And there it happened. And it was bad. Very bad. In general, since then it took a lot of time to understand the most important thing about Santa Claus. She is: Santa Claus is only two types. Santa Claus is God. And Santa Claus is a friend. And when you are trying to become a god at sixteen, it looks dull. When I stopped being God and became a friend, everything fell into place, it went easily, good and not ashamed. Everything went by itself.

My friend worked as a nurse in a large kindergarten, which is behind the "electronics". He says to me: Do you want to smash Santa Claus? I say: I want. And so how many years in a row I have been performing in this kindergarten in matinees. Before my eyes there, Baba Yaga, by the way, grown to the manager, an excellent chuvikha. So the New Year is still for me - an outlet. And a wonderful school.

There, for example, there was such a mother musical worker Palna. And then Palna, she knocked out God from me when I tried to turn it on. She said: and Vooooot during the Taaaaanian our Santa Claus is quadrual and ... on the ass - pluch. And I said: how? Santa Claus on the ass?!

And she answered: what is it? Children like this, they will laugh.

By the way, there is another sign of real Santa Claus - his children are afraid or not. This is a very thin thing. Usually everyone is afraid only at the first moment. Five minutes later, when they get used to it, you can beat them at least with a stick on the head, nothing terrible will happen. But in the first minutes it is scary. Imagine: such a healthy shaggy horseradish came out. And besides, he is some kind of alien. Here, of course, there is a dumb. At this very moment, in order to prevent everyone from putting on his pants, it is important to do something so that it is not scary. The timbre of the voice. Gesture. Pose. And if you succeed, this is a real buzz.

Well, how? Once a year you go to people, and everyone loves you. The full hall to the people, and all of them love you. This is very cool. And this is doubly cool, because you are manipulating all this crowd loving you. Last year, for example, I led New Year's Eve in one country restaurant. And it is not clear what to do.

It seems that there the sound was checked in advance, and suddenly, during the New Year's appeal, Putin is silence. He tears his mouth, but nothing works. I took everything into my own hands and said everything for him.

Well, so as not to offend anyone-suddenly there is someone who loves him in the hall. And I say: now everyone is fine with us, and in the new year it will be even better. There are many difficulties, but it will be smaller. There is little money, but it will become larger. The pensions are large and will be just huge. Everyone was crazy about happiness. Then they said in the smoking room: grandfather, dude, thank you very much.

Well, this is always the same with adults as it will go. And in the kindergarten you just literally fall into a happy childhood. This magical sound of a frustrated piano, it produces its magical action. Moreover. Now the 21st century is already in the yard, there are modern music centers everywhere, but still there is always a place for this piano on every matinee. Without it, no miracle just works. And it works with it. For three weeks in a row. A couple of weeks before the New Year and a week, maybe after.

"Below the silhouettes of Christmas trees, and on the ass - a month"

Once I had a personal record: seven Christmas trees per day, including a night performance in a tavern. Now I'm not particularly strained. Especially coronavirus, what the taverns. There will probably be one kind of kindergarten, they seemed to be consulted there and decided to hold a matinee without parents, but with Santa Claus and antibodies. I even joked here on this score, hung on the network something like a price list. There is a type of different price categories. Father Frost. Santa Claus with the Snow Maiden. Santa Claus with Snow Maiden and antibodies. Santa Claus with Snow Maiden and IgG antibodies. And I look - after that many place such ads in complete seriousness. And now I am no longer participating in the race for matinees, corporate parties and money. What is the main thing to me? - Miracle.

What, I think, is the main miracle of the New Year: no matter how trite it sounds - in the fulfillment of desires. This is such a short piece of time when everything works when you get exactly what you want. Personally, there was such a garbage with me-I still don’t even know how it happened at all-I drew the yellow-orange machine that I want. And I received it, although it was a deep such scoop, the choice was small. There was only one jamb: I still wanted a large machine, but I myself am to blame-I didn’t write the size, so I received a small one from Santa Claus. But I am still the same as I asked. And it was completely incredible. So much time has passed, but I still remember it.

Magic stories in general, probably, is always all out of time and age. I remember the story of Santa Claus and an adult, probably from the mid -nineties. I somehow walked along the New Year along the street with the Snow Maiden in the costume of Santa Claus, I was not far to go there. And suddenly on Lenin Square, next to the stop, one small comes up to me.

“I,” he says, “has never seen Santa Claus in my life.” I now serve in the army, I came on vacation, and here - Santa Claus. Wow.

And I see that he really has some kind of shock. I say:

- Well, let's tell me the verse then, since we met.

- How is the verse? Which? I don't know poetry.

- Well, what you know, you have nowhere to go.

And the stop. People. We got into a circle with this small one. They helped him read the poem. He has tears. I gave him some kind of candy. And he says:

- Lord, what happiness! I met the real Santa Claus.

This is actually the main question. Real Santa Claus or not real. Children always argue about this.

I think that Bryansk Santa Claus differs from the rest in that he is really real. Why - I can't say. Maybe because of clothes. They sewed mine in the Youth Theater, I specifically wanted the fur coat to be not red with gold, but blue and embroidered with silver. To below the silhouettes of Christmas trees, and a month on the ass. Plus, I have a staff from the plum that grew on my site. He is heavy, uneven, crooked, all in knots, not some kind of expensive road with light bulbs and tinsel. When I enter the matinee with him, I will definitely say some grandmother: yes, you can kill like that. And immediately after that, the children understand: this Santa Claus is real. And they believe in it.

And I believe. Because I know that. But only sometimes. Because sometimes I feel not Denis Petrenko, but to Santa Claus. And then this is a holiday. This is the New Year.

Recorded by Sergey Mostovshchikov, "New"