Wish list

Call it what you will, but I'm in the giving mood these days.

I like to think of myself as a semi-generous guy. After all, I am the same person that let my college roommate use my computer for two years even though he had one of his own sitting unplugged on his desk, collecting dust the way I collected absences in my British lit classes.

That being said, I thought I'd share this list of holiday wishes I had for people and inanimate objects alike:

€ To unsafe drivers on icy roads: While you're skidding along on the ice in your dented pickup trucks and bumperless station wagons, please remember that there are other, safer, drivers next to you, just trying to get to work or make it to Taco Bell.

My wish for you is to get a clue, to slow down and to stop smashing into snow banks and road signs like you're in a bumper car at Six Flags.

€ To my bank account: This year, as you dip below three digits and dangle perilously close to going into the red, please remember all the hard work it took to give you life, to bring you into this world.

My wish for you is to double - no - triple in size, giving us both a comfortable cushion to pay bills, buy that Bob Dylan book we both want so much and eat out every now and then if we feel like it.

I promise I'll bring you along.

€ To the abominable snowman: I know you prefer to be called Yeti, and I don't blame you. No one likes to be referred to as abominable, and I'm guessing you're anything but. How could an 8-foot tall hairy beast that lives a hermetic life in the mountains really be that mean? You're probably just lonely, and that's OK. I'm here to help.

My wish for you is to gather enough courage to come on down from the hills and share Christmas with me in my apartment. I already opened the presents my mom sent me like a greedy little kid, so we won't have much to do, but I have some movies we could watch and food we could eat.

What do you say?

€ To Mother Nature: Look, we've had our differences in the past, I'll admit that. It probably wasn't a good idea for me to publicly challenge your power when I used to live in Florida, but after Hurricanes Charley and Floyd, I apologized.

My wish for you is to give us mercy and keep things nice and mild this winter. I'll take a few inches of snow or a layer of ice on my windshield every morning, that's fine. But please, for the love of everything good in this world, do not let the temperatures go back down to 16 below. I beg you. People aren't supposed to function in temperatures like that.

€ To my sense of humor: Sometimes I wonder where you came from, how you decided that I was your guy. The things you make me do and say are often appalling and embarrassing, and I'm not quite sure how to take this whole robot obsession you've given me recently.

My wish for you is to veer a little closer to the center, for your own sake. It's not that I don't appreciate you, it's just that I'm not sure how many more stories about robotic pterodactyls my friends and family can stand before they lock me up.

€ To Kraft Macaroni and Cheese spirals: I don't know how you do it, but you captivate and tantalize me on a daily basis. How are you so much better than the regular elbow noodles? I hesitate to say I'm in love with you, but it's getting close, a little too close.

My wish for you is that you remain delicious, inexpensive and available, but to also respect my obvious shortcomings and try your best not to make me think about you constantly. Like I am right now. And right now. And right now.

And finally:

€ To myself: John, my only wish for you right now is for you to end this column without losing any more dignity or self respect.

Wait, what? It's too late for that?

Dang.

John VanVleet is a columnist for the Hungry Horse News.