I can still hear the warnings, the strict advice that I would receive every holiday season as a child. It came from my parents, teachers and virtually every adult I knew, and it was the art of getting everything you wanted from Santa Clause.
"If you are a bad girl, you will get nothing but coal from Santa," they scolded me. I could not even escape the questioning from the old man himself, for there is not a child in the world that sits on Santa's lap without him asking if they had, in fact, been a good boy or girl that year.
For the first seven years of my life, Santa Clause was pretty much equivalent to God in my mind. I was constantly told that he was watching my every move, knowing if I had been bad or good. I sang songs about him, baked cookies for him, and even wrote long detailed letters to him. I was basically worshipping the man.
As the years passed, the letters stopped, I realized I cannot sing and I ate the Christmas cookies that I baked. I learned that I was a bit naive in first grade when I burst into tears days before Santa's arrival and confided in my mother that I did not believe I had done enough to please this mysterious all knowing man to receive the coveted American Girl Doll that I so desired.
I learned if I was relatively well behaved, I would rip open my gifts on Christmas morning to find that I had been deserving of Go-Go My Walking Puppy, a Cabbage Patch Doll and even Molly, my American Girl Doll.
As a college student, however, the holiday season sometimes becomes a jaded time filled with finals and projects. I might have to shape up my behavior a bit or carve a large chunk of time out of my schedule to bake some gourmet cookies to get my name on the good list. Even if I had the time to write a letter to Santa, what would I ask for?
For starters, nothing I want would come from Toys-R-Us.
I would probably ask for Albert Einstein or any other genius from the past few centuries to miraculously take my final exams for me.
Next would possibly be the relocation of South Bend to somewhere a little more exotic than Indiana ... perhaps Costa Rica?
And finally, I would ask for that blue Volkswagen Jetta I have desired for so long.
My wish list is definitely nothing that any Santa I know could fulfill, but Christmas is all about miracles, right? Oh, I would also let Santa know that this year he does not need to travel all the way to Poland, Ohio from his humble abode in the North Pole - just as long he has someone in the likes of Brad Pitt or Jake Gyllenhaal fill in for him.