Just a few lumps of coal, here and there
Thanks to the deal you made with Disney, my 3-year-old and I have watched your life story on DVD at least a dozen times in the last month. I must say, you look an awful lot like Tim Allen, but you are a much better actor. And thanks for adding Missus Claus this year as a sequel. That was a nice touch, although the storyline was a tad weak.
Wait, wait, though. That was not a criticism, merely an observation of the sorry script that you were obviously forced to work with based on the parameters laid out by those Mickey Mouse people. It was painfully apparent that your abundant creative juices were not allowed to flow.
But I digress.
Except for the published babblings of a few ignorant blind-wearing souls, most folks agree that I have been a very good boy this year. I did not kill anyone, did not cheat on my taxes, only made fun of those who deserved it or were capable of taking a joke, and said “I love you” to my kids each morning as they left for school, although the 15-year-old could only manage to mumble incoherently in return.
So I ask that my following wish list, although longer than usual, be considered with your customary fastidiousness and thoroughness in solidifying my altruism in your glorified eyes. To:
George W. Bush: Continued strength and unwavering support from the vast majority of Americans in spite of those few who prefer to wait for another mass killing of Americans before jumping on the bandwagon.
Trent Lott: A muzzle, a week spent as the head of the ACLU and a lump of coal.
Saddam Hussein: A very painful paper cut and a dumptruck full of coal.
Osama bin Laden: A kidney dialysis machine with a hidden transmitter and an Allah-shaped lump of coal.
Donald Rumsfeld: A strong “beep” signal on his receiver.
North Korea: Some dung for Jung and a radioactive lump of coal.
Yemen: The ability to recognize when you are being used as a pawn.
Islamic terrorists: Graphic mental videos stuck in replay-mode of their work in Kenya, Russia, Israel, Bali, the Philippines, India, Pakistan, Indonesia, France and the U.S. as they swim upstream against the River Purgatory.
Jimmy Carter: A close-up photo of Arafat, smiling that dentist-dream of a smile while holding up HIS Nobel Peace Prize, confirming its true value.
Al Gore: A bid for 2004, thus sealing the donkey’s coffin.
Bill and Hillary: Skip “em, nobody cares anymore.
Michael Jackson: I don’t really have a clue, but for God’s sake, please, somebody do something.
Chris Carnes (15): Patience until turning 16 in April.
Steve Carnes (12): Patience to reach high school.
Peer Carnes (3): Patience, period.
Lise Carnes (NOYB): A brand new $2,000 fridge full of Iraqi doughnuts! (ha-ha-ha-ha-ha).
Adam Aaron: A measuring stick for those moments just prior to a national TV appearance (10 feet of snow is cumulative, Bubba, not current).
Bill Jensen and John Garnsey: No promotions! Leave them alone! They’re both just fine right where they are (don’t want to lose either of them).
Avon Town Council: Realization that you are NOT a ski town, but a shopping village, and charging for buses will not push you over the cliff of financial doom.
Larry Brooks: A townwide pat on the back for already getting exactly what he deserved.
Bill Efting: Warm squishy sand between his stubby little toes on Christmas morning.
Vail Town Council: Realization that you ARE still a ski town, but one with fewer and fewer locals to help support more and more services.
Bob McLaurin: A year’s supply of Alka-Seltzer and brown liquor (not to be consumed simultaneously).
Mom: She’s already received it this year – thanks.
Broncos: A playoff bid, please.
Michael Cacioppo: An end to one particularly touchy lawsuit.
Eagle County teachers: A happy end to one particularly touchy lawsuit.
Don Rogers: A new excuse as to why I am never invited to the office Christmas party. (“Oh, did I forget again?” is old after a few years.)
15-year-old letter writers who think they can change the world: The power to do such. I wish there were more like her.
Just for the record: Pacifier is spelled with a “c” as opposed to a double “s,” and I do believe the gentleman meant to say “silver spoon” anyway.
That’s pretty much it, Big Guy. The best of luck, hugs and kisses, and all that. Don’t make any more movies.
Your loving servant,
PS: Merry Christmas everyone.
Richard Carnes of Edwards writes a weekly column for the Daily. He can be reached at email@example.com