If you look, there are some good deeds being done

To my fans, I, Santa Claus, am writing you a letter from the North Pole. I know it’s usually the other way around but we live in extraordinary times. I receive thousands of letters each year and I can assure you I read each and every one. Some have urged me to outsource that task to another country or told me to use an autopen but as James Bond once said, “Sometimes the old ways are the best.”

I’m sitting here all snug in my office, with a hot cup of (corporate sponsor) tea in my hand, looking at the snowfall coming down outside. There is a thick layer of the white stuff covering my (corporate sponsor) pickup truck and (corporate sponsor) tractor in the yard. The wind is blowing about 50 mph and based on what I just saw, Bumbles don’t really bounce. Sorry Rudolph.

That being said frankly I’m not sure if I have the energy to make the trip down there this year. I’m so old now that scam artists are the only people who phone me on a regular basis. My mailbox is stuffed with two things: your letters and AARP fliers and neither of you are going to give up until you get what you want.

I look at what’s going on in the world and really see no incentive to fight the weather, the UFOs, the missiles over the Sea of Japan, and the lines at the Britney Spears concert to make it down your chimney. The fake news says I don’t exist and that’s enough to make me punch my ticket to Margaritaville. The racket from all of the yelling down in your neck of the woods keeps us awake up here in Santaland. I’ve called the cops on you several times and you’ll quiet down for a bit. But as you get closer to an election, you’re back at it again. From my vantage point it looks like the leaders who can do the most to solve your problems choose not to because they like the action. I’ve also noticed that your ability to be civil with each other has decreased as your use of smartphones has increased. Weird how that’s happened.

With that being said, I do see many things that might, just might inspire me to wedge myself into that red suit one more time. (Have you seen how my big black belt has moved higher up on my belly as I’ve gotten older and wider? It’s the opposite for you men down there).

I see children who mark out the whole year in green and red crayon on a piece of paper, then excitedly cross off each day as Christmas moves 24 hours closer. I watch kids wiping the fog off the inside of their bedroom window on Christmas Eve hoping the red light they see high in the night sky is me. (Hopefully they don’t figure out it’s the 11:30 p.m. Southwest flight to Vegas. Sin City knows no holidays). I also notice those same kids sneaking like commandos through the dark in the living room seeking confirmation and validation from a stocking filled with candy and toys.

On Christmas Day I see youngsters skillfully flying their new drones or flying through the air due their lack of skill with their new skateboards. I see the passing of the baton from one generation to the next on the gridiron in the street or the court in the driveway, all before the call to dinner. That night I see turkey sandwiches and pumpkin pie on the table next to board games surrounded by laughter and “light” conversations about religion and politics.

I also see folks volunteering to ring the bell at the red kettle, donating their time at the shelter, buying bicycles for kids who don’t have one, visiting a shut-in, helping those facing mental or physical challenges, or honoring fallen soldiers by running a relay on a frigid Saturday morning. I see people helping the elderly, the sick, the forgotten, and the poor. I see bravery in combat, in the oncology ward, and in children’s hospitals. In other words, I see a lot of good things going on down there.

I’m convinced that most people are good; it’s just that the bad ones get the headlines. I’m always asking for you to believe in me. Now I’m writing to tell you I believe in you. Even you Giants fans.

Merry Christmas. I’ll see you soon.