I’ve decided it’s about time that adults got to write letters to Santa. We’ve perpetrated this little charade for our children and grandchildren, and they seem to have done pretty well by believing. It wouldn’t take much to give me some faith in the old gentleman, even at my advanced age. I’m predisposed to believe in someone who rewards the good, admonishes the not-so-good, and manages to handle it all in one night with limited resources. Hey, this sounds like what I’ve been doing all my adult life..
Dear Santa,
First of all, I’d like to apologize for the extended gap in our correspondence. At first, it was peer pressure—no one else appeared to be writing you, and you know how that is when you’re a kid. Then later, life intervened, and I was too busy during the holidays to write anything but To Do lists. I think that has worked to our advantage because it’s given me some time to think about what I would really like to have for Christmas. Most of the material stuff is here already, but there are a few things I could really use…I've limited myself to ten important items..not wanting to be greedy about this….
I've certainly tried to be good this year, and so..here are the things that I am wishing for:
1. A cell phone plan whose terms I could understand
2. An exercise program that I really enjoyed enough to stick to
3. Fewer choices in the grocery aisles. Maybe you could impose a limit of three different varieties of each product, rather than having us all standing immobile in the aisle trying to distinguish among five brands of orange juice, each with pulp, no-pulp, extra-pulp, pulp with Vitamin D, no-pulp with calcium added, etc. Milk, bread, cereal, ground beef—all come in at least six varieties with various embellishments…All right, already--life was simpler when choices were more limited.
4. Fewer TV channels, more substance. I’m tired of surfing through 200 channels at night and finding nothing worth watching. Perhaps you could merge some of these reality shows. The Biggest Loser is unfortunately the viewing public.
5. Another room in my house. Anyone who can fit a world’s worth of toys into a single sack on a single sleigh surely has some super-secret storage tips and/or some magical storage space. I want it, and I want it now.
6. Hearing aids for all those people who don’t hear what I tell them; special glasses for those who can’t see what’s in front of their noses. Maybe a clue, for those who haven’t any. (I already have a long list of recipients..)
7. Some sincere script that I could read off to telemarketers, political canvassers, and charity solicitations that would convince them unequivocally that I don’t want to talk to them or contribute to the cause of the week. Particularly in the middle of my dinner.
8. One day each season where I could decide the weather. Imagine not having to worry about rain on your wedding date, snow and ice on your big winter travel day, wind on the day you planned to rake leaves. Or unendurable heat on the day of the summer party you’d planned.
9. An elf for a day. Just to make all those little repairs—the carpentry, the stitching, the gluing and pinning that I never seem to have time for.
10. A tech expert to show me (and leave printed directions on) how to program my various electronic gadgets: phone, IPod, IPad, laptop, network, wireless printer, Apple TV, TiVo, GPS, etc. (BTW, could you tell Apple that there are those of us out here who appreciate having a manual that we can look things up in?)
I know these gifts are not as simple as a train set, or as readily available as Barbies or Legos, but I think that they would be extremely popular among folks of a certain age--which would simplify your global efforts. However, I feel I should let you know that I will not be overly disappointed if you can't/don't/won't deliver. Some things require more than ordinary magic.
But for the record, I still believe.
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