Dear Santa Claus:
If it’s not too much trouble, I ask the following things for Christmas. I know some of them are impossible, but I would like you to try, please try.
1. An intelligent conversation with a few folk that doesn’t involve God, football, or children. I realize that that might be a stretch, but boy, I don’t want to see any more university football flags, pictures of cute grandbabies, or oozy-smoozie-gushie noel cards.
2. Good books. Great books. No more crap books advertised as great reading. Please.
3. Warm weather. It was sure nice until yesterday, but then the cold front came in, and the temperature dropped in a hurry.
4. A really, really good movie. I’ve managed to dodge all the bad holiday movies this year, and Australia wasn’t bad, and I thought some parts of Quantum of Solace were dry British humors, but I would like to see an unconditionally good movie — none of that bad seasonal stuff that disappears like tinsel on the tree the day after the holiday.
5. Someone to count my inventory New Year’s Day. I want to have brunch in a cozy little bistro — a two-hour brunch with real coffee. I don’t want to stare at blurry little titles with my blurry little eyeballs attempting to remember that five comes after four and wondering why I still have all these books.
6. A real newspaper. The Dallas Morning News ain’t bad, but somebody resized it and diminished all the good stuff and it definitely leans to one side or ‘ther. I miss all the comics. I should be grateful the power-that-be left Doonesbury intact. I don’t think I’ve ever read the New York Times, but I would be willing to try.
7. A present I don’t have to track down myself, that I actually like. Forget the peculiar sweater in size small that fits no one except a toddler or a miniature poodle. “I jest knew you’ve love it.” Yes, indeedie, and so will Goodwill. Thank you very much.
8. Good chocolate. Semi-sweet. Dark. Please.
9. No more spam. I don’t need any holiday fake e-mail greeting cards. As a matter of fact, I’m not too crazy about computers at this point in the season. Or e-mail. Or printers. Or scanners. Or digital cameras. What is wrong with these people?
10. Someone to haul my stuff to the post office. Yes. I’m going to shovel all of it into a bag and take it there myself like the responsible person I am, but I’m tired. Could you, Santa, please loan me Rudolph? I don’t care if his nose does light up like a Christmas tree from too much happy eggnog, I just need some help with the packages.
The Chisholm Trail Bookstore
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