An ad hoc letter to Santa

Dear Santa –

Please bring me the following for Christmas.

(Note: We don’t have chimneys on the Big Island – at least not in these jungly parts – so feel free to leave everything on the lanai or distribute it as you see fit.)
I would like:

  • an anteater to get rid of the sugar ants that are EVERYWHERE

The sea entry plume – Kilauea

– a bottle of gin and some rocks wrapped in ti leaves. We still need to make an offering to Pele, the volcano goddess. You know what, never mind the ti and rocks; we have plenty here in the yard. Pick up the gin, though, if you don’t mind. We’ve already driven to town countless times this week, and if I have to go back one more time I’m going to scream.
  • a book of manners for the wild pigs who tromp through the yard at 2 in the morning digging up the grass, shrieking and snorting like a herd of errant werewolves just beneath the bedroom window

Spear chuckers

– some good news. Things have gotten a little better of late. A little – and to tell the truth I’ve been so consumed by work and simply making do that I haven’t been paying that much attention. But for Christmas this year can we please have a few less outright idiots and psychopaths and a balancing dose of positivism and good neighborliness instead
  • (can you get the nasdaq to hit 5000 and keep rising slowly until it’s time to start taking mandatory withdrawals from my IRA, at which point I’ll convert everything into bonds, I promise?)

Wheazley the Gecko, before the tragic accident

– a new foot to replace the one that got mangled when I pulled Wheazley the gecko off the glue trap that was intended for a mouse that chewed its way in through the window screen. (Speaking of which, while you’re at Home Depot picking up some power tools for Arvin and me – our neighbor Nicki has a power screw gun that rocks, btw – grab a screen patch kit so we can repair the hole where the little furry s.o.b. chewed himself an exit route.) Poor Wheazley..
  • Oh, and by the way: a literary agent. Hello..? This year. On Christmas. At my door. No more lame excuses. But by all means don’t leave it sitting on the lanai. Invite it in and fix it a drink.

And last but certainly not least, I would like…

– a good stretch of sunny days to darken my pale skin and fill up the solar batteries

– a large token of thanks to the amazing people I am privileged to call my family and friends. Please give them all whatever they want for Christmas

PS. One last thing. Can you do my Christmas cards for me? Seriously. I’ve been busy.

Thanks old man.

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