ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS

ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS…

Dear Santa,

Well, it's that time of year again. It's time to gimme gimme gimme. Oh, and spread some goodwill towards all of mankind. But back to the gimme gimme gimme: As usual, I have made out my Christmas list, and I expect nothing short of 95% fulfillment of the requests outlined below. And remember – I still have the reindeer pictures.

In case you’re wondering why I’ve waited so long to send in this year’s list, it’s because I was waiting to give you time to wade through all of the other kids’ letters so that you could devote total attention to mine. (And besides, how needy and self-serving are those letters? Bring me a Playstation! Bring me a scooter! Bring Daddy an early release for good behavior! Puh-lease.)

It’s time to pay attention to me. Me. Me. Me. Just like saying that. Me me me me. So let’s get down to business.

My list:

I want every election from this point forward to be this interesting. I want every country to see that America is so rocking that we can devote over a month’s time arguing over which rich-kid Daddy’s boy gets to pretend to be the most powerful man in the world. Top that, Great Britain!

I want a pony. No, not that kinda pony. I’m talking racehorse. And I want to name him Jimmy Durante so that I can hear someone say, "Jimmy Durante wins by a nose!"

I want you to see about introducing legislation (Santa can do that, right?) banning people from taking a two-year old to a movie if they are then going to huff and puff and get all exasperated when the kid – surprise! – has the attention span of a turnip. It’s a two-year-old. It cries. It’s what it does.

I want a CDRW for my computer, because then I will have absolutely no need for a record store, as I will continue stealing my music from Napster, but now will enjoy the art of crafting my own CDs. Sure, Napster may start charging down the road. But trust me – many, many people will put up similar services, and I will once again be able to sidestep the system. In no time, I will have what the record companies are scared to put out – that’s right, a Jim Nabors/Iron Maiden greatest hits compilation.

I want one of those massage chairs. I ask for that every year, but both you and my wife seem to not take me seriously. I want my chair. I’m very stressed. Between the two of you, you should be able to scrape up the four grand to accommodate my relaxation.

I want each and every person who sent me kind words this year to get an extra nice little something in their stocking. And, for the person who called me a parasite, I would also like a little something extra in that stocking, but I would like for my cat to manufacture it.

I want you to stay out of the stores until after Thanksgiving. Again, a yearly request that you conveniently overlook.

I want for my daughter to continue to be wowed and amazed by the bright lights of Christmas. She’s not even five months old, but already thinks Christmas lights are one of the single greatest things every created (second only behind ceiling fans). I hope that, as she grows older, she learns more about the spirit of the season, and only grows more wowed and amazed.

I want a really cool remote control car, because the kid next door never brings his out ever since I kinda commandeered it a while back.

I want a golf cart, because, let’s face it –golf carts are fun.

Finally, Santa, I want to receive the ultimate gift that one could ever receive – peace on earth. You know, now that I think about, that’s a pretty tall order. How about we just settle for that massage chair?