MINNEAPOLIS (AP) - Members of this club drive cars with license plates like HOHOHO, CSANTA and SLEIGH. At summer pool parties, they wear shorts with red suspenders and talk about where to find a barber who does a good beard-whitening job. And when these old guys step out en masse, heads turn: They all have real beards, and they all answer to Santa Claus.

At informal get-togethers, the 55 members of Minnesota Santas swap stories about the wacky toys kids want, as well as the heartbreaking moments when children ask them to reunite divorced parents or heal a mother with cancer. And they teach each other how to be better Santas.

"We all respect each other as true gentlemen, and we all accept this as a blessing and a gift," said club coordinator Carl Immediato, who plays the role at parties, hospitals and parades - and who also, by the way, drives a car with window-mounted antlers.

Last names are discouraged at club gatherings. "We all address each other as Santa," said Immediato, who prefers to be known as Santa Carlucci. "If a guy's name is Bob, we call him Santa Bob, and if there's numerous Bobs, well, one is Santa Bubba."

Some members take their role seriously, wearing red socks and Christmas shirts and answering to their holiday names year-round. The club's founder, who listens to Christmas wishes from 17,500 children a year at the Mall of America, flatly refused to give his name, identifying himself only as Santa Sid.

Once, a little boy who knew him as Santa ran into him at work at the Holiday Inn, where he wore a nametag that said "Sid." The kid was unfazed. "Oh, I get it. You're Santa In Disguise!"

"When you look like Santa, you can't be anybody else," said Dan Lundeen, a longtime Santa at Twin Cities-area malls. At restaurants, "sometimes, when you leave, you can't pay your bill, because somebody else paid it for you," he said. "So I've adopted that, too. When I see a veteran from Baghdad, I'll buy their dinner."

Club members, who come from all over the metro area, entertain professionally and volunteer for everyone from neighborhood kids to crowds at the Minnesota State Fair.

At meetings, they discuss topics unique to their calling: Where to buy the kind of white gloves that are ideal for turning pages in a naughty-or-nice book. How to calm cranky or frightened children. What to do when you're hired to play Santa at a private party, but ring the doorbell at the wrong house. How to get your wife involved as Mrs. Claus.

"I think what we enjoy most is sharing unique stories about what the kids say, and how we choose to word things when we talk to kids," said Bob Marshall, a real estate agent who also works as Santa during the holiday season.

Once, a small boy on Marshall's knee gave him a detailed description - including make, model and color - of the vacuum cleaner he wanted for Christmas.

Every Santa finds his calling in his own way. Lundeen, who worked for a florist, got his start when his wife encouraged him to grow a beard and deliver flowers in costume at Christmas. Marshall pledged to grow a beard and find a red suit after a skinny, fake-bearded actor showed up drunk for the Christmas party at his mentally handicapped sister's group home.

Immediato's revelation came one fall morning when he woke up in a sweat from a classic Scrooge nightmare. His whole life had passed before him, and he realized he'd never really done anything to give back to his community.

"Literally, that morning, I said, 'I gotta do something!'" He called the Lake Street captain of the Salvation Army and asked if he could ring bells while dressed up as Santa.

The Santas started meeting socially a dozen years ago, after Santa Sid called a list of names given to him by a photo company that hires Santas. A core group started recruiting members - sometimes on the street - and others have connected on the Internet.

Members said they knew of only one other similar citywide club - in Atlanta - but some also belong to the Amalgamated Order of Real Bearded Santas, a fraternal order that holds international conventions.

Group members know firsthand how much children look up to them. It's a responsibility they take seriously. As Immediato put it, "I'm as close to God to these kids as possible."

Several Santas said they use their influence to ask children, for example, whether they eat their vegetables. For Immediato, the pitch goes something like this: "You're the Sarah that kicked that field goal at the soccer game last week, but you're also the Sarah that doesn't like broccoli, and if you don't want to look like Santa, you've got to start eating that broccoli."

But come Christmas morning, that powers fades, and the Minnesota Santas turn back into guys with white beards for another year, he added ruefully.

"We crash to the ground on Dec. 26," he joked.

The club generally gets together in January to have some laughs about the past season.

"We call it the blues party, because no one loves us anymore."