I seldom score a face-to-face with a bona fide celebrity, so imagine my excitement when granted an interview with one of the biggest names in the business, especially this time of year.  

At least, that’s what I thought.  

If only I were a better speller.   

I thought I was getting the Abominable Snowman, but no. I got the Abdominal Snowman.  

“Happens all the time,” said the amiable abdominal snowman as he patted his well-defined six-pack. “It’s no problem. I’m used to it.”  

In the 44 years since the stop-motion animated version of “Rudolph” first aired on TV, Abdominal said at least a dozen others had made the same error as me.   

Grateful for his kindness, I decided to continue our interview.  

“So how exactly does a snowman come to have such a fine physique?” I asked, hoping to break the ice. “All the snowmen I’ve been acquainted with in the past have been round and lumpy.”  

Abdominal seemed pleased by my question. He wanted to talk.  

“Let me tell you, it wasn’t easy,” he said. “Working up a sweat is dangerous for a guy like me, if you get my drift. But after Burl [Ives] beat me out for the narrator part, I got really down. I guess you might call it post-part depression. It was a dark time for me. Got in with a bad crowd. Hung out with this kid, Calvin, and his stuffed tiger, Hobbs. We did some bad things to snowmen back then. Real bad.”  

Abdominal became quiet and contemplative for a moment, likely revisiting memories of tortured and mutilated snowmen.  

“Luckily, Calvin was ‘retired’ in 1995, and Hobbs got a job as Tigger’s stunt double, so I was suddenly all alone. Completely ice-olated.  

“I did lots of thinking–so much thinking I’d get these awful migraines. Thumpety-thump thump. Thumpety-thump thump. All day long. Finally, I decided I needed to do something positive, something that would make me stand out from the crowd.”  

“And that’s when you began working out?” I asked, astute interviewer that I am. Unafraid of asking the truly tough questions.   

“I went to the gym seven days a week,” Abdominal said. “There wasn’t much I could do with my arms. No matter how much I work out, they’ll always be sticks. But I found I was a natural with crunches. I could crunch ice all day long.  

“Before I knew it, my life had turned completely around. I had a few endorsement gigs. Even opened my own bar, The Ab Lounge.”  

He paused when he realized I was staring at his nose.   

“Yeah, yeah. I’ve had some work done. I got the schnoz shaved down. Went from a full-size carrot down to a mini. It was probably too drastic. Yukon Cornelius-he works for me now-is always making Michael Jackson jokes.”  

“Well, your smile sure is impressive,” I said.   

“Thanks,” the snowman said proudly. “Hermey did my enamels. You can’t even tell they were once lumps of coal. That elf was born to dentistry.”  

“So what’s next for the Abdominal?” I asked.  

“Actually, I’m preparing to tour with Gore,” he said. “This whole global warming business has me worried.”  

“Does this mean there might be politics in your future?” I asked.  

Abdominal smiled.   

“Could be,” he said. “But I’ll wait and see how the Ice Queen fares first.”

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