My previous post, writing a letter to Santa, turned out to be a pretty good friggin’ idea. Just to be sure that he got my letter in the form of a blog post, we made a trip up to the North Pole to flop our happy asses on the jolly man’s lap to be absolutely sure that he saw it. No, not the strip club in North Jersey that they used in the Sopranos, we went to the REAL North Pole. The one at Macy’s in New York City!
After an hour and twenty minutes standing in line to see the jolly old man himself, I confronted him about the whole flying thing. “Twenty-three years I’ve been asking you to make me fly, is that really a lot to ask.” He leaned back, turned his head to the side and just looked at me. After what seemed like an eternity of him staring, he said, with a straight face, “That would take a whole lot of magic.” “Oh,” I thought, “Santa’s got fat jokes now.” Just as I reached up to fist bump him in comedic delight, he added, “It’s only three days ‘til Christmas, but I’ll see what I can do.” This comment, I believe, was an attempt to thwart my fist bump, which he saw as a fist flying at his snowy white bearded face; His life flashed before his eyes- Mrs. Claus’s 273rd birthday, their 301st wedding anniversary, the day Jinglehorse the elf was born (260 years ago). But alas, we parted with a handshake, a photo, and a t-shirt that read “I waited in line for an hour and twenty minutes at Macy’s and all I got was this $20 photo.”
With all that being said, Santa was pretty good to me this year. Just to review:
I got Legos. Lots of Legos.
I got a bag of nothing but red Gummy Savers. (Gummy Life Rafts are an acceptable substitute for worms, due to the short notice.)
Cherry Grand Marnier. (Thanks to my Mrs. Claus-in-law.)
It snowed. Not ON Christmas, but while we were galavanting through NYC the weekend before, so I’ll give you a pass this time, Santa.
My mom offered to be “the elf in the basement that would do all the laundry.” I politely declined. I’ll be asking for that actual elf again next year.
Had an impromptu breakfast/reunion at Versailles Diner. Not quite a Wedding Redux, but it will suffice for now.
I slept pretty damn good last night.
As it turns out, Christmas Vacation was already available on Blu-Ray. I know this, because i have it now!
Stay Tuned for Top Chef Richmond!
And finally, although I’m not sure how Santa knew, I got a Remote Control Helicopter that I can control with my iPhone!!!
So in conclusion, for all you bastards that made fun of me for writing to Santa, bite me, it worked. To my elfling roommate- I don’t know what the big deal is about writing my wishlist sooner (8 days before Christmas is plenty of time for Santa to make all my presents), but next year, I will. If for no other reason, to save the extra postage of sending it Express Mail to the North Pole. This year was proof that there’s still magic in that glorious tree at 30 Rock and in Santa & his elves.
Or perhaps it was just from all those Mormons Tabernacling on my Pandora.