Talking, dancing snowman distracts reporter in hunt for ‘hot’ story
Tramping through snowy Bancroft Park looking for hot stories, the Westside Pioneer reporter had begun to think this was a bad
idea until, poking his head inside Bancroft Cabin, he saw that some kids seemed to have made a snowman. No story there,
though it was a tad unusual to see one indoors. He took a closer look. The kids had done a neat job, arranging the glacial
glomerate into a sitting position on a chair and dressing him up with a broomstick in one “hand” and coal chunks for his eyes and
shirt front. All he seemed to lack was a hat, though wouldn't you know, there was a silk one sitting conveniently on the side of
Of course, the reporter was much too busy for such distractions. But at length, moved by a curious force, he walked into the cabin and placed the hat on the snowman's head. It did make him look better. Life-like, even. Now back to work, the reporter thought. He was just starting out the door when he heard a voice from the area of the chair. “Oh, good, I’m alive again!” The reporter turned around to view the unlikely spectacle of a snowman beginning to dance around.
“Did you just talk? Did you just move?”
“Certainly. I'm Frosty the Snowman. The hat brought me back to life. Which is just the thing for a jolly, happy soul!”
“Wait a minute. This can't be. Frosty is just an invention. A song that Jack Nelson and Steve Rollins wrote for Gene Autry in 1950. An animated movie in 1969 starring-”
But the frozen frolicker was not interested in the past. He kept merrily chirping about how glad he was to be up and around again - mainly because he'd been invited by the Old Colorado City merchants to come back for a “special appearance in Old Colorado City at Bancroft Cabin Dec. 11.”
Dec. 11? The reporter leafed furiously through his notepad. There it was. Santa's Old Town Workshop, 9:30 a.m. to 2 p.m. Saturday, Dec. 11, overlapping Breakfast with Santa at Meadow Muffins from 8:30 to 11. Maybe he'd have a story after all.
“We're going to celebrate the holiday with all the children,” Frosty announced with a huge grin. “There'll be a lot of great activities. I'm going to lead a parade around Bancroft Park.” He was leaping about so excitedly that his hat flew off, and he went stiff in mid-air.
This was curious. Fortunately, the icy extrovert had enough life left in one eyeball to twitch in the direction of the hat. Vaguely remembering the words to the song, the reporter restored the hat. Frosty grinned a thank-you and returned to dancing.
Except a new problem was cropping up. The crystallized canterer was starting to sweat. No, take that back. He was… melting.
“Do you want to go outside?” the reporter offered.
“It is getting hot in here,” the Arctic adventurer responded, backing gingerly away from the cabin's stove. “And you know what happens when I start to melt. I get all wishy-washy.”
Once safely out in the cold, Frosty took to laughing and playing, meanwhile allowing himself to be interviewed - about Santa (they like to “keep in touch” and “hook up over the holidays”) and about what makes him different from other snowmen (“They don't have a magic hat”).
Still, the story just didn't have that hard-nosed edge editors like to see. The reporter decided to fire up a tough question: “Kids see you as warm-hearted. How is that possible when you're made out of snow?”
“The spirit is where the warmth comes from,” Frosty responded immediately. “All you have to have is a little holiday cheer.”
This stumped the reporter, and by the time he looked up again the humanoid hailstone was whirling down to the village with his broomstick in his hand. There was no time to see if he would start running here and there all around the square, so the reporter headed back across the park. He knew he'd find a hot story if he just kept looking.
Westside Pioneer article