It's been a long time since my last letter to you. I hope I'm still on that list of yours—you might want to check it twice ... that one way in the back of the file drawer ... the yellow, brittle one ... yeah, from the 1950s.

I know that you're busy right now filling the orders for all the little ones. And I know that adults are not exactly your priority this time of year—but I figured, hey, it's worth a shot.

So this is what I want for Christmas:

Please bring us peace on earth. Please bring an end to homelessness. Please end the suffering of our fellow man. Aw, heck, please bring me a satellite dish!

I know, I know, we should all be thinking of others during this special season. But let's be serious. You may be able to do something easy like make reindeer fly or travel around the world in a single evening. But get real! You're only human, and you're no Henry Kissinger.

So you'll never pull off world peace, and sadly homelessness and suffering will continue. But a satellite dish? Yeah, you might be able to pull that one off.

Sincerely,

Dick Sparrer

I was inspired to write to jolly old Saint Nick by a stack of Santa letters I had the chance to review last week before they headed North. Kids were asking for everything from peace in the Middle East to new puppies and kittens. And they're counting on the jolly old elf to deliver.

But in between their requests for Play Station 2 and Legos, they asked some very penetrating questions and offered some very insightful thoughts. I felt compelled to respond to some of them:

"What should I leave you on Christmas?"

Well, they say cookies and milk are his favorites, but when we were kids Santa always requested a salami sandwich and a glass of beer. Judging by the way Santa looks these days, though, maybe rice cakes and a Diet Pepsi would be best.

"Should I leave you gingerbread cookies?"

Gingerbread is nice, but it's not quite chocolate, now is it.

"I sure hope you like chocolate chip cookies because that's what kind of food I will put out for you."

That's more like it.

"Maybe I could leave you white chocolate fudge cookies?"

Now you're talkin'!

"How do you squeeze through my chimney?"

After a few million gingerbread, chocolate chip and white chocolate fudge cookies, it would have to be with a jack hammer!

"Do you want me to leave carrots for your reindeer?"

Maybe the carrots should be for Santa, huh?

"What should I leave for the reindeer?"

I hear they like baked beans. That should keep Comet Blitzen!

"What if your reindeer run out of gas?"

From where Santa sits, gas is the last thing he wants in his reindeer!

"How do you make reindeer fly?"

It's magic.

"For Christmas, can you please make it snow in Los Gatos?"

Not even Santa has that much magic!

"I want my own Toys 'R Us."

I'm sure your parents do, too.

"How is it at the mall?"

Fine, as long as he keeps Mrs. Claus out of Nordstrom.

"Please, please, please do not get hit by a plane!"

At least until he clears North American air space.

"Why do you come down the chimney? Why don't you come in the door?"

The door? Now there's a novel concept.

"Can we meet some time on Christmas Eve?"

Well, it's a pretty busy night...

"How do you make all the toys in one year?"

With a little help from his little friends.

"I want to know how you get around the whole world in one night."

American Express ... don't leave gnomes without it!

"Will you make people clean up litter?"

What a nice thought.

"I want war to stop."

Don't we all.

"I would like you to bring my toys to the homeless shelter."

What about you?

"I hope you give the poor people presents."

But what about you?

"I want people who are helpless to have presents on Christmas morning because I care."

That's homeless, Susie, and I care, too.

"I believe in you, Santa."

You know, Jessica, I do, too.