Dear Santa,
As you well know, I have been quite good this year. I have spent at least 25 hours worrying about global warming (14 pts), another ten hours feeling guilty about owning a car (7 pts), and given miniscule amounts of money to my favorite charities (12 pts) In addition, I have made over a hundred snide remarks about malls and big box stores (5 pts) but shopped at Home Depot at least 6 times (-9 pts). On the plus side, at least Home Depot Pays its staff properly, even if it won’t guarantee hours. (Please note that I didn’t go to Walmart even once this year (42 pts).
So, with a total of 79 pts, I am basically in a strong “B” position. Since that is the case, I would like the following for Christmas.
1. A pair of riding boots and full seat breeches.
(I just happen to know that James has taken care of that for you, Santa.)
2. The MC Panjabi CD.
(I actually took care of that one for you. Don’t mention it!)
3. My long dreamed-of career as a radio DJ.
I don’t want to be one of those announcers who pretends to be about 15 years younger than he actually is and makes a lot of stupid, sexist jokes about beer and his buddies like you find on most classic rock stations.
I want to be like the DJ from Warriors. You remember that movie, don’t you Santa? It’s about this huge gang summit in New York. The main gang leader guy gets killed and the real killer accuses the Warriors of committing the crime. The story is about the Warriors trying to get back to Coney Island from Manhattan, mostly via the subway system. Along the way they are attacked by gangs who wear cool outfits, like baseball uniforms or roller skates, girl gangs and gangs who drive around in an old bus, and other gangs that I can’t quite remember.
The movie is kind of narrated by this excellent DJ woman who has a sultry voice and says cool, sexy stuff and is obviously in the know about underground activities, such as gang warfare etc. I realize that my lips will never rival hers. I’m also aware, Santa, that I’m in my thirties now and this DJ fantasy is a little immature, perhaps even a smidge pathetic. I know that I live in Nanaimo, which doesn’t really have any gangs or a subway system (although we do have good Go Carts here). Even so, if you could hook me up with the voice and the excellent patter I promise I will stop being so bitter and disappointed about Christmas and all its unfulfilled promise of a better life. I will even stop calling it Capitalistmas.
Thanks, Santa. Do this for me and I’ll have your back, Christmas-spirit-wise.
Now I am going to go practice my DJing in case I wake up to a sound studio on Christmas morning. Okay, here goes: “Warriors, come out to plaaaaaay….” Oops, the cool DJ never said those lines. They were from the bad guy with the small chin! Wait, I’ve got it. She actually said: “To that real live bunch from Coney Island, The Warriors…”
Cue Nowhere to Hide! I am so ready, Santa!