Dear Santa: Hope this finds you and Mrs. Claus doing well.

How are the twins – Santee and Sanette? Yes, I realize they are all grown, with little ones of their own, and living in the lap of luxury up there somewhere in the Great Frozen North.

I would be remiss if I didn’t ask about the reindeer. Did Rudolph finally get over his bout with the runny nose? We sure hope so, since he is responsible for once again guiding your sleigh next week. It just wouldn’t be the same without old Rudolph – we wouldn’t have any advance warning that you’ve embarked on your annual trip around the world were it not for his bright red nose.

Santa, I’m keeping my Christmas wish list very brief this year. That’s for two reasons – (1) I can’t afford those bills you send me in January – the ones I pay for over the next 11 months, finishing just in the, pardon the pun, nick of time to do it all over again, and (2) I have a loving wife, daughter and family, so what else do I really need?

So, without further ado, here’s what I’m wishing for.

N A quick trial for Saddam Hussein, followed by an equally quick execution – perhaps something along the line comparable of how he raped and pillaged his own countrymen and women.

As a side request, please do not allow Johnny Cochran and other members of O.J.’s &uot;dream team&uot; to represent Mr. Hussein (and I use &uot;Mr.&uot; very loosely in his particular case). That really shouldn’t be a problem since Johnny and his cohorts will perhaps land the Michael Jackson defense case. Johnny always seems to enjoy trials involving the use of gloves (or glove, in Jackson’s particular situation).

N At some point after he rests up a bit, can you loan old Rudolph out to U.S. Intelligence and see if he can lend a hand – oops, I mean the bright beacon that is his nose – in finding Osama bin chicken? He, like Saddam, has probably crawled under a rock. If you really want to so all of us a favor, after locating Mr. Chicken you can drop the rock on his head. If that’s beyond your realm of fair play, then strap him into a remote control aircraft and aim it towards a mountain. We’ll listen for the boom.

N Santa, is there anything you can do about straightening up this trade deficit dilemma? I – like so many true-blooded Americans – am growing tired of seeing our fellow countrymen and women being forced out of their jobs, losing their homes and, more importantly, losing the respect they’ve built over the years, because their employers go running in a mad frenzy towards cheaper labor in Mexico and China. Is there anyway you can convince our leaders in Washington that it would be in the best interest of the United States to double the tariffs on foreign products made with American materials? That should lead these money-hungry business executives to leave their American plants open. I, for one, wouldn’t mind paying an extra buck or two for a product proudly made in America by Americans.

N Locally, give our elected leaders the wisdom to make sound decisions that are factually based on what’s good for all, and not just certain sectors of the population. While on the subject of local politics, please pass the word to Frank Ballance that he really doesn’t need to file for reelection. His current financial scandal is an embarrassment to our area of the state. What would place us in more of a state of humiliation is if we voted in favor of sending him back to Washington.

N On a personal note, can you please make sure to leave my mother and father a dose of good health. My pop has fallen victim to dementia and my mom is taking care of his needs ’round the clock. Perhaps I’m more worried about her health than his. Please make sure their needs are met long before you grant any of my aforementioned wishes.

N As far as my individual wants, basically all I want for Christmas is time off to spend with family, fondly watching those loving faces light up as they tear into their presents. Of course it doesn’t hurt to have a plate full of ham, turkey, ‘tater salad, chicken salad, a bowl of corn and butter beans and enough sweet tea to float a battleship.

Happy Trails,

Your pal Cal