Dear Santa … Hi, my name is Jim

Dear Santa,

Hi, my name is Jim and I’m 59 years old.

You might not remember me, because the last time I wrote to you I was a bright-eyed 10-year-old asking you to leave me a Schwinn “Stingray” bicycle for Christmas.

If it helps you to remember, back in those days everybody called me “Jimmy.” I know from all my letter-writing experience to you as a kid that it’s appropriate to begin letters to Santa by saying: ‘I’ve been a good boy this year…’ But, since some who know me best know that wouldn’t be exactly accurate … I’ll just begin by telling you that I’ve TRIED to be a good boy this year.

After another long year of dealing with glad-handing politicians, increased taxes and decreased services and the ongoing circus in Springfield and Washington, DC, well, it’s enough to make even you cuss and spit and head to the nearest bar.

So, when tallying up my good/bad score this year, Santa, please keep in mind the people I deal with on a weekly basis and I think you can overlook an occasional transgression.

However, the real reason I decided to write to you has nothing to do with what I want for Christmas, but instead it has to do with what I see as some real similarities between you and me – aside from the white hair and the fact that we could both stand to lose a few pounds.

After giving it some thought I realized that we both work hard at jobs that involve deadlines. In my business we actually start from ‘scratch’ every day. And as soon as we get that day’s work completed it’s time to start worrying about the next day. It never stops and I’ve learned that what I did in the past means nothing. It seems I’m always looking for the next story or the perfect column.

I would imagine you know about that though, because your job is much the same. As soon as you get one Christmas order completed its time to start working on the next one. And just like me, what you delivered last Christmas means nothing. I’m sure you’re always looking for the next stop or the perfect gift.

It’s a hectic pace and sometimes thankless job, ain’t it Santa.

Then, of course there are the people we both deal with even after our job is supposedly finished. I’m sure every time you see the long line at the exchange desk the day after Christmas you’re reminded that you make a mistake once in a while. Well, don’t feel too bad about it Santa, because about half the calls I receive are from people telling me what I did-or-didn’t do or what I should-or-shouldn’t do.

And I also think it’s fair to say that we both must love our work because neither one of us are getting rich doing it, are we? I think the biggest thing we have in common though, is that we’re both idealists.

In my work I write about people from all walks of life. Some of it is good news that will make people happy and remind them of a happy time in their life while some is bad news that will remind people of a time they would just as soon forget. But, it’s when I write something that I know touches somebody’s life, changes the way they think, lifts their spirits or even makes them smile or prompts them to contact me that I feel I’ve succeeded as a writer.

And I have you figured to be the same kind of person, Santa, a guy like me who loves the blue collar crowd. In fact, I think you enjoy taking presents to all kids, but I’ve always imagined that you get an added thrill when you take a special present to some poor kid who really is in need.

In short, I think we both have an unwavering belief that we can change things – and maybe sometimes even for the better.

Santa, I know you’re very busy so thanks for taking time out for this letter and for the chance to renew our friendship. And even though the world we live in is a far different place than it was nearly 50 years ago when I last wrote you, I want you to know that I still hold you in high esteem and think you’re doing a terrific job.

And regardless of how politically incorrect it might be these days … I still believe in you, Santa.

Have a safe trip.

Your friend,

Jim

PS – In case I forgot, thanks for that bright gold Schwinn “Stingray” bicycle with the butterfly handlebars and banana seat, it was the neatest Christmas present I’ve ever received. Don’t eat too much at the house before mine, because like always, I’ll leave the milk and cookies out for you.