Dear Santa:

I know I haven't been very good this year but I tried really hard and maybe that counts for something. I asked for a dual-core Xeon motherboard but I know that ain't gonna happen and I can live without it, anyway. At my age, I have learned to live without.

In the absence of granting electronic wishes, perhaps you could just send me some global karma.

I want to love Christmas and give up the Pinocchio life. I don't want to have to fold my 19 year-old daughter's spiderman thong underwear with the inscription "I can go anywhere." Maybe you can do something about how my 12 year-old looks so in the know when the subject of sex comes up.

If you have any influence with the Goddess of Engines, implore her on my behalf to keep my Camaro running for at least another 18 months. I know, I know, I haven't been in the driver's seat of that car for over six months now. Help me stop resenting that. The big daughter was right, I guess. That car WAS wasted on me. I seem only worthy to buy gas for her to drive MY car.

Make me normal and generous and motherly and send me the gift of a huge desire to make divinty, like my mother. I can write, repair a computer, ask probing questions and install a furnace. I need to care about egg whites and nuts and be a real boy. Find a way for me to be content with things as they are.

Let Ann be as good as she is able to be. Help me find a way for her to feel as blessed as everyone else, despite her circumstances and her consciousness of them.

You understand, Santa. With your help, the children will adore their gifts and never suspect that because of those, I have to work even harder. We CAN be a real family, even without a father, if we try hard enough.

While you're dispensing karma, let me be a little selfish. I promise not to do it often. See that Oklahoma wins the National Football Championship in 2007 and let 'Bama do well, too. I've got a good friend from there. While you're at it, maybe my little league basketball team could blow everyone away and win the county championship with everyone on the bench getting plenty of playing time. It doesn't hurt to ask, right?

And, Santa, bless each one of my friends and send them a happy Christmas with exactly what they desire. I know I can't have the same thing right now because my life won't allow that. Still, remember my promise to myself. I have scored 46 Christmases. Before I die, I want to have ONLY ONE my way. Are you really offended if people eat bolonga sandwiches on Christmas without any divinity or pies or hams? I would ask for an explanation of why your holiday makes most of us out to be less than able but I don't care that much anymore.

Not that I don't believe in you, Santa. If I am ever graced by love and importance, I will smile at you when you peek into my doorway on a cold, silent night. By then, though, I will be making my own karma.

Just one chance, Santa. I guess that's all I'm asking for. Just give my kids one chance. Just give me one chance. Maybe there's a chance that I can love and exemplify the Spirit of Christmas. Maybe there's one person on this Earth who can closely reflect that back to me.

I believe, Santa. But I ain't holding my breath.

Regards....