Lee Dresselhaus / L’Observateur / December 6, 2000

So….December at last. And that means Christmas, cold weather, and allthose annoying television commercials advertising sales on things that you wouldn’t be caught dead buying any other time of the year. Like that rubberfish that sings, “Take Me To The River” when you push a button. Oh, boy. ‘Tisthe season.

Anyway, I thought I’d write Santa a bit early this year. You know, sort of tobeat the rush. After all, there’s gonna be a lot of either Democrats orRepublicans firing off some serious wish letters pretty soon, and I want to get mine in first. So here it is. Yo! North Pole! Pay attention, now.

Dear Santa, I would like the following things for Christmas, and not necessarily in the order presented.

I wish Al Gore would just….shut up and go away. And take Ralph Nader andPat Buchanan with him. Oh, and Hillary, too. And for good measure throw inAlec Balwin, Susan Sarandon, and the rest of that brie-munching, over- opinionated, under-qualified and downright aggravating Hollywood crowd.

I wish Sandra Bullock would call me, though. Just once. Or Jennifer Tilly.Either one. Doesn’t matter. I wish I would win the lottery just to see if rich people are more miserable than me like everybody says. Somehow I don’t think so. But in the interest ofscience, I’m willing to sacrifice myself to find out.

I wish somebody else would mow my yard next year. Every week. Free. I wish I were taller. And while I’m on the subject, I wish my hair would stopfalling out so damn fast.

I wish Al Sharpton, David Duke, Trent Lott, and Jesse Jackson would be stranded on a desert island somewhere together. Heh-heh. I wish there were another hunting season like deer season. Only this onewould be Sniveling Little Weasel season. That way people like that idiot, fact-twisting lawyer for the Gore campaign would have to hide out at least for a few weeks a year and not inflict himself on the rest of the human race.

Because, that’s a Sniveling Little Weasel if I ever saw one. See what I mean?There needs to be a season on them to thin the herd because they’re everywhere. Look around your office, Santa. I’ll bet at least one of your elvesis an SLW. Every office has at least one. A Sniveling Little Weasel seasonwould be just the ticket, wouldn’t it? Think about it. Just a short season, twoweeks or so. Limit two per day, either sex, like buck or doe day during deerseason. Sigh.And while I’m on the subject I wish somebody would find out who the television executives were who are responsible for “Who Wants To Be A Millionaire,” “Survivor,” “Big Brother,” “Real World” and all the other imbecilic shows similar to those and shave their heads and make them run naked through the streets.

I wish the networks wouldn’t use 25-year-old Barbie dolls to stand on the sidelines during a pro football game and tell me what their opinion of the players or the game is because I DON’T CARE WHAT THEY THINK ABOUT FOOTBALL! Or anything else for that matter, come to think of it. Note to theNFL on behalf of football fans everywhere: Stop it, please.

I wish I understood just what it is that women really, really want from us men because, frankly, I don’t get it. I don’t have a darn clue. Wait, though.Scratch that one. I’m not sure I really want to know. Too scary. Never mind.I wish those guys who sit in traffic and blast obscenity-laced rap music for you to enjoy along with them would all grow some sort of tall spiky knob right on top of their heads so the hats they’re so fond of wearing backwards would spin around and around when the wind blows through their open windows.

Maybe they’d close their windows then and we wouldn’t have to listen to that garbage with them.

I wish “Saturday Night Live” was even close to being as funny as it was when it first came out.

I wish Sunday newspaper comics were still funny, too.

I wish Martians would come down and take Sinead O’Conner away with them for some galactic zoo display or something. Ricky Martin, too, come to thinkof it. Now, THAT would be funny.Anyway, Santa, there you have it. Like anybody else, there are more thingsI’d like under my tree, but this is all I can think of at the moment. And, yes,I’m a big boy. I’ll understand if you can’t deliver all of it. Or even most of it. The Sandra Bullock thing would be nice, though.

LEE DRESSELHAUS writes this column every Wednesday for L’Observateur.

Copyright © #Thisyear# Wick Communications, Inc.Best viewed with 4.0 or higher