Dear Santa,

It is only a couple of days after Halloween, and already the store shelves are full of Christmas candy. Of course, the leftover orange and black Halloween candy is right there next to the red and green Christmas candy, and it’s deeply discounted. Mmmm, should I get half-priced, marshmallow-filled, chocolate-covered witches and mummies or the over-priced, marshmallow-filled, chocolate-covered snowmen and Christmas trees? Oh, Christmas, oh, no! That reminds me, my December column is due… ah, yesterday!

Santa, I really need a private secretary to help keep up with my life. I can’t believe I have to sit here in the pre-dawn hours of Election Day and work up an enthusiasm for Christmas, when I can’t even work up the gumption to go vote. Such are the demands of magazine writing: Write about timely things two months before they actually happen. Halloween, Election Day, Christmas… I’m so confused. What happened to Thanksgiving? Oh, yeah, I wrote about that two months ago while getting a sunburn at Myrtle Beach.

Sorry, Santa, if I’m rambling a bit here. I know you must be very busy, heading into your busiest season, and you don’t have time for longwinded letters from kids — big or small — asking for the impossible.

I’ve been a pretty good guy this year, and I want a whole lot of stuff for Christmas. I admit, I’ve had a few downfalls and lapses in character, but I certainly believe my few good deeds and many good intentions outnumber the overwhelming number of things I’d like for you to overlook. I know you’ve been watching and making a list, but come on, give a guy a break.

At the top of my wish list (right next to that secretary – blonde, please) is a 32-ounce Big Gulp from the Fountain of Youth. You can handle that, can’t you? You’re Santa Claus. You live at the North Pole with a bunch of elves. You do a world tour of gift-giving in one night, riding in a sleigh pulled by eight flying reindeer. Surely, you can stop by the Fountain of Youth and fill up my water bottle. I’ll leave it by the can of beer and bowl of potato chips that I leave out for you each year.

How about some abs? I’ll take a six-pack. I know that I already have abs, but they are getting pretty old and I’ve not seen them in years. I strongly suspect they are forever buried beneath a keg. If you want, just take the keg away and leave my original abs. If you want to refill that keg, I’ve recently developed a taste of locally made hard ciders.

If I can’t have that secretary, I’ll take a big bottle of time… as in Time In A Bottle. I’m sure you can relate. A guy can never have enough time. I don’t know how you manage. I need more time to relax, to eat, to sleep, to hang out with my dogs. Working for a living just takes up too much of my time. If I had Time In A Bottle, I could do so much more relaxing, eating, sleeping, and hanging out and still get my work done. Do they bottle a month of Sundays?

On a less selfish note, you know my daughter will be Cambodia this year for Christmas. She’s a Peace Corps volunteer, trying to make a world a better place. This will be our first Christmas apart. As you pass through Cambodia, would you please give her a big hug and a kiss for me? Tell her I love her and miss her, especially on Christmas. And, please make sure the care package that we’ll send her gets there in time.

My son will be spending Christmas in Portland, Oregon, again. I don’t get to see him all that often anymore, and I know he prefers to spend Christmas on the West Coast. As an adult with adult children, I know that is how things go: Children grow up and cultivate their own lives sometimes on soil far away from the proverbial family tree. I just hate seeing his overstuffed stocking hanging by the fireplace in the days that follow Christmas morning. Just let him know we miss him and home is where the heart is — wherever you call home.

Sorry, Santa, I know some of my requests are rather intangible. But if a guy can’t ask you for the impossible, who can he ask? We all want happiness, world peace, and good health, but sometimes a competent secretary will do the trick. My stocking is the big one on the left.

I look forward to not seeing you on Christmas Eve night but knowing you’ll be there.

Sincerely,
Good Guy Steve

P.S. Pig ears. My dog, Futar, sends his regards and renews his annual request for pig ears for Christmas.