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Scott Hollifield: Dear Santa, You owe me one, buddy

By Scott Hollifield | The McDowell News

Published: November 26, 2009

I don't like to use my widely read newspaper column (eight loyal readers, if Uncle Vern recovers from what doctors have now labeled "swine gout") for personal gain, unless it's to lure people into my latest money-making scheme or further my political ambitions, which is also my latest money-making scheme.
But I need to get my annual letter to Santa Claus, the one that started in crayon 40 some years ago and stopped being in crayon about four years ago, and this is the only method I'm comfortable with at this point.
Last year I e-mailed it "To: Santa," transposed a couple of letters in his name and nearly sold my soul to Satan for a Snuggie. I considered going back to the U.S Postal Service, which had served me well for years, until I learned the agency will end 2009 with a $3.8 billion loss. While that makes it one of the more efficient government agencies, I fear that I will somehow add to the deficit by contacting the jolly old elf by snail mail. Plus, I don't want to buy any stamps.
So, here is my 2009 letter to Santa, who subscribes to this newspaper (or reads it for free on the Internet, the cheap %$#&):
Dear Santa,
Hello. How are you? How is Mrs. Claus? How is Rudolph? I will leave you some milk and... blah, blah, blah. (I know I am obligated to begin with the standard boilerplate Santa letter language, Kringle, but it does get a bit tiresome after 40 years.)
It's true you and I have had a somewhat contentious relationship following the 1974 incident in which the package under the tree was not an Evel Knievel Stunt Cycle but a cardboard box filled with tube socks, but I must admit you have come through with the goods nearly every year since then.
And I do acknowledge some of my unfulfilled gift requests from the past - a date with Cheryl Tiegs, the actual 1977 Pontiac Trans Am driven by Burt Reynolds in "Smokey and the Bandit," X-ray vision, a super-intelligent talking monkey sidekick to name a few - were a tad unreasonable.
Of course, there were also some hard feelings back in the '80s when I attempted to unionize the elves and one of Santa's little helpers crossed a picket line and got his knees broken with a candy cane, but we worked it all out in mediation.
The point is, you and I go back a long way, good times, bad times and we won't even talk about that time in Houston at the Club Meow.
This year, it's hard times. The economy has been tough on you just as it's been tough on all of us. You considered a government bailout. You instituted a furlough program that hurt your lowest paid elves most. You've outsourced work to China, which opens you up to liability for tainted children's products. (And I'm truly sorry to hear about the Chinese drywall used in the addition to Santa's workshop.)
That's why I'm not submitting my usual list, which often runs longer than Lou Dobbs' shot at becoming ambassador to Mexico.
No, my list this year is a short one. Topping it is a true economic recovery. Come on, Santa, help those guys and gals in Washington get the ball rolling, to show some get up and go, to have the moxy to ... I'm running out of clichés, but it would be nice if things got better, Santa. And second on the list is a 55-inch flat panel HDTV and home theater system that will make it seem as if I am actually in the movie driving the Trans Am when I watch "Smokey and the Bandit" on TBS.
Come on, Santa. You owe me after the tube sock incident.
Love, Scott