Letters to Santa


It is during the week of Christmas at the North Pole, and Santa and Mrs. Claus (hereinafter referenced as S and M, respectively) are busily opening the usual "letters to Santa."

M: Ah…such a lovely letter, Santa. This child says we are the only people in the world he can trust to bring him a 1969 typewriter exactly like the one used by the Texas Air National Guard back when Richard Nixon was doing weird things at Abu Ghraib.

S: Abu Ghraib? Why, Richard Nixon died years before Abu Ghraib made the news on Planet Earth. Besides, we deliver new things, not something 35 years old. Who in the world signed that letter?

M: Why, it's signed by a little boy named Dan Rather.

S: Egad, that explains everything. The only president he ever hated more than George Bush was Richard Nixon, and he needs something to contrive a forgery that is believable, instead of the one he pulled back in October. That thing was so off the wall that the elves are still laughing about it.

M: But, what about the Abu Ghraib thing? It was Vietnam back in the 60s, wasn't it?

S: Of course it was, but at CBS a little thing like the truth is simply not important, and the researchers there are just minimum-wage illegals from Mexico - the diversity thing, you know - so Abu Ghraib is as good as the Hanoi Hilton, as far as they're concerned, even though that cesspool was Buchenwald when compared to Abu Ghraib. The Sixty Minutes producers probably wrote the letter and some Mexican forged Rather's signature - the deniability thing, you know.

M: Oh…now that you mention it, the envelope-return-address is Senor Daniel Don Carlos Enrique Ratherrique at Colombiatura Broadcastincino Systemireyneyens in Nouveau Yorque.

S: Nouveau Yorque? That's French, not Mexican…those illegals must also be illiterate and probably found that caption on a perfume bottle or something in Andy Rooney's cluttered-up office…maybe under his eyebrows while he was asleep.

M: So…what will you do? You can't just turn down a request…not even from a big boy like Don Carlos…er, Dan.

S: I'll put a gift certificate from Bill O'Reilly's Web site in Dan's stocking, with a note that truth is greater than fiction and doesn't spin out of control as badly as forgeries. (laughter)

M: Here's a letter from little Osama. It's so cute…has little snakes pictured on the letterhead, Qaeda Cave Headquarters, Somewhere in Tora Bora. Osama wants a hot water bottle and a new prayer rug and a new compass. He explains that it's cold in the caves and the wet floor has ruined his rug and Allah probably won't answer his prayers for a bottle and a rug and a new AK-47 because he can't ever figure out how to face east in the cave when he prays.

S: Look in the book or the check-off form and see if he's been good.

M: He sent a note that he hasn't blown up any more buildings all year and has only had four dozen people beheaded and suggests that he might be the purest Muslim in the world…almost no bloodshed…comparatively speaking, he adds, with Genghis Khan.

S: I'll take that under advisement with my contact in Afghanistan and see if he's been naughty or nice by ayatollah standards.

M: Let's see. Here's another letter. It's from a Johnny Kerry, and he would like a set of battle ribbons…says his were lost back in 1970 while he was fighting against a gang of peaceniks in Washington who were acting like Genghis Khan. What a coincidence!

S: Did you say against? I watched that whole thing while out exercising Donner and Blitzen and dodging Eastern Airlines planes, and I saw Johnny throw his ribbons over some kind of fence. Did he say in that letter that he's been a good boy and told no lies?

M: Why, yes…he checked the box that says No Lies Ever, but then he checked another one that says No Lies Lately, but then he checked this other box that says No Lies in 2004, and even put a nice note about his sadness at spending the Christmas of 1968 in Cambodia, but that the ribbons would make him all better.

S: H-m-m-m. Johnny had a terrible time making up his mind all year about anything, so that accounts for all the boxes, none of which is properly marked. And that Cambodia thing turned out to be the biggest lie in that book he had written that came out this year, explaining what a good boy he had been all his life. Johnny is ineligible for anything, since he has lied and been naughty instead of nice.

M: But Santa…Johnny sent a picture and…h-m-m…is that a Botox job…or is that a genuine, wrinkle-proofing, state-of-the-art Botox job par excellence? Some of my girl friends don't look that good. What a hunk!

S: Watch it there…you saw that picture Schwarzenegger sent last Christmas and almost let the reindeer starve and sneered at me for two weeks when I came in from making toys after a hard day's work. Cool it, and get on with the letters.

M: Watch it there yourself, Buster. Hillary and Maureen Dowd have said publicly that women are mad as hell and won't take it anymore. You can just feed those nasty animals yourself and see if I care…and while you're at it, check out all those fat senators calling obesity a national emergency. Just pulling you around the world nearly killed the reindeer last year and neither you nor they are eligible for Medicare…so maybe you can just take this job and…

S: Now, now, chill out, dear. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be pushy. I know you have your rights.

M: You better believe it, big guy, and I'm thinking I might just drive the sleigh this year and you can do the packing, read the letters, feed the elves, put new batteries in Rudolph's nose and…

S: Sheesh…where are you when I need you, Osama?