Dear Santa:

Has it really been a year already?

I suppose time does fly when you’re busy helping others and generally giving selflessly to make the world a better place in which to live, work and play.

(The above slogan was not cribbed from a certain municipality that claims to be the best place in the world in which to live, work and play. I’ve been saying “live, work and play” for eons, just ask anyone around the office. Note to self: if the City of Barrie’s legal department calls about this, pretend to be someone else and say I’m out of the country for important humanitarian work.)

Anyhoo, speaking of my good deeds, where do I start?

Why, just yesterday – without the promise of financial benefit or even a box of chocolate-covered cherries, my favourite Christmas treat – I selflessly held a door open for a man at the mall.

Please look for a follow-up list of good deeds conducted over the past year, which I intend to get to once I’ve finished knitting sweaters for that family of newborn kittens down the street.

The salient point here is that this simple gesture filled my heart with the joy of knowing that someone, somewhere was a little better off because I had selflessly stopped the door from swinging closed and potentially bonking him on the nose.

As far as I can tell, we are not even obliged to do this under the Ten Commandments, and, as I’m sure you’re aware, those pretty much cover everything.

Still, it just felt like the right thing to do.

Come to think of it, Nick, you and I really are alike in many respects, the exception being that you work one day a year and I’m out there Monday to Friday and sometimes on weekends if duty calls.
Also, my reindeer cannot fly.

And by reindeer, I am of course referring to the 2003 Mercury Sable station wagon with power windows and automatic transmission, which is no magic sleigh and is probably due for replacement any day now.

The point is, we all do what we can.

Now on to the business at hand, re: my compensation for the past year’s worth of thoughtful deeds.
Let me first say that, all things considered, I’ve been a very good boy in 2009.

Compared to others who shall not be named – although you would be safe to skip Timmy Caruthers’ house – I’ve been something of an angel.

Again.

In the summer I mow the lawn almost always without complaining or even scowling very much, and in the winter that’s me salting the front walkway so the mailman doesn’t slip and become buried under a pile of mail-order catalogues, thereby depriving shoppers of the latest solar-powered nose-hair trimmer or possibly even that snazzy looking alarm clock/fish bowl on pg. 39 of “A Thousand And One Dubious Products You Never Knew You Needed!!!”

All of which is why you’ll probably want to bring me something big and expensive, such as a collection of vintage electric guitars or possibly even a new station wagon modified with a cool-looking spoiler.   

I’m just saying.

Make good on either of these requests and I promise I’ll even wake up early enough to shovel my own driveway before my saintly neighbours get to it with their snow blowers first.

While you’re at it, I want you to bring them something real nice.

It’s just the kind of guy that I am.