Christmas is a time of year that memories are made. Here's one of my favorite holiday memories.

My sons were three and four years old, I think, so this has been over 30 years ago. One December Friday night the boys, my wife and I were making the rounds on the courthouse square in Pittsfield.

As we were walking, the boys saw Santa coming toward us, about a half block away. Of course, they made a bee line for the big guy, putting in their orders.

Now, the gentleman who was "Santa's helper" that year happened to be a friend and a regular listener (in fact, one of the reasons he looked the part was because he was a regular winner of donuts we gave away on the air).

Anyway, Santa and I kept walking toward each other. When we met, he slapped me on arm and said, "Hey, Harold, how ya doin," and kept walking.

I turned around to find my kids standing there wide-eyed with their mouths dropped open. "DAD ... DAD ... you're friends with Santa???"

Hey, dad's on the radio ... he's friends with everybody.