‘Tis the season to be jolly, whether we are or not. Luckily, this year Santa has some good news. The economic crisis has hit the North Pole so hard that Mr. Claus has decided to change the policy.
This year everybody gets presents. Santa needs the “naughty” dollar too. The elves’ pension fund is in terrible shape and the mortgage on the workshop is way under ice. Santa needs all the business he can get.
According to my back-of-the-envelope calculations, gifting the naughty is going to triple Santa’s workload. The least a grateful sinner can do is give him a hand with the list. Here are some suggestions.
For Newt Gingrich: The gift of failure in the primaries. If he gets the nomination, he’ll be humiliated come November. If Santa is feeling extra generous, give him a fourth wife. I know that’s not the Christian thing to ask for, but it should come as a relief to the third.
For Herman Cain: Another pizza job and a ten carat Kobe Bryant Apology Ring for the missus.
For Penn State University: A conscience and a padlock for the showers.
For Jerry Sandusky: A fire retardant vest to carry him safely through the gates of hell.
For the NBA: The gift of humility. The basketball strike went on for five months and nobody cared. Santa, grant the NBA the power to get over itself.
For The San Francisco Giants: A left-handed slugger who can give them a few splash hits. Failing that, ten shutouts apiece from Timmy, Cainer, Madbum and Vogey.
For the aforementioned pitchers: The gift of run support. One a game would be nice, two would be an improvement, three would make them all Cy Young.
For the late, great Bobby Thomson, hero of the 1951 Giants, author of the Shot Heard Round The World: A baseball team to play with in heaven. Where he can hit the Shot Heard Round Eternity.
For Justin Bieber: The gift of puberty. Nobody who looks like that should be taking a paternity test.
For Angelina Jolie: A fifty-five gallon drum of Chapstick and a paint roller.
For CNN’s Wolf Blitzer: A new nickname. Preferably something that doesn’t sound so Third Reich.
For Donald Trump: This is a tough one. He has more than he needs already. Maybe Barack Obama’s birth certificate? But then he’d have no reason to live at all. Never mind.
For Barack Obama: The gift of inept enemies. Oh, wait, he has that. How about the skin of an elephant?
For the Tea Party: Beer to cry in. If the GOP doesn’t let them down, the President will crush their dreams pitilessly. Be merciful, Santa. I hear alcohol helps numb the pain.
For John Huntsman: The gift of a party change. The Republicans hate him. The Democrats would welcome him with open arms and love him. And everyone needs love, even conservatives.
For Rick Santorum: A name tag. He must be so tired of hearing “Rick who?”
For the millions of American homeless: A house.
For the millions of empty and foreclosed American houses: A family.
For the global recession: A swift, merciful death.
For every teacher and every politician: The gift of swapping jobs for a year. They’ll both be richer for the experience. One in cash, the other in character.
For the holders of bonds denominated in Euros: Wallpaper paste.
For the holders of bonds denominated in Dollars: Promissory notes denominated in Yuan.
For the Chinese Communist Party who holds all of that paper: Mao suits for the peasants when they rise up and take away the Mandate of Heaven.
For the hedge fund honchos: A real job planting real hedges, to get them in touch with their roots. (Don’t groan at my puns or Santa will put a lump of coal in your stocking.)
No, I take that back. This year all the bad boys and girls will get a solar cell in their Christmas stockings. Santa is going green.
For all our troops in Afghanistan: A ticket home, a paid-up mortgage and a Hamid Karzai dartboard for the den.
For a generation that stares at a screen 16 hours a day and thinks that’s living life: Ah, what’s the point; that ship has sailed. Give them a new smartphone.
I haven’t forgotten about you, Santa. You need a gift more than anybody. I’ve been talking to the reindeer and they suggest a year’s membership at Curves. They can’t take it anymore.