This year though, I don’t want anything from you except maybe a tiny little favor. I know that you are well connected, and I would be extremely grateful to you if you could provide a clean bill of health for all my friends and relatives. It is not a very large group, just a few hundred people… All of them are respectable citizens… some are admittedly drunks and fibbers, but they all have their hearts in the right place, and this is what counts.
As long as I am talking to you Santa, and if you are not too busy (I understand that Amazon is lending a hand) please send some ninja-elves to Washington and have them discreetly abduct our ex-supremo. Since being soundly defeated at the polls, he has become totally delusional, and a long vacation to the North Pole would do him (and the nation) a lot of good. I know that you are aware of this situation since the entire world is already sniggering about it.
You probably also know that the pandemic is presently wreaking havoc in the entire world, and I would like you to be careful when visiting all the homes on your route. Please wear a mask, some gloves, and do not touch milk and cookies anywhere because you don’t know their provenance. Keep in mind that the Cossacks have had their hands on everything lately…
I have also asked some friends to drop a few lines to you, so here it is:
I want to instantly be able to shoot the boule perfectly. Also, want a Silver Hermès pétanque set. Lastly, I want Covid to avoid any human that has a pétanque ball. Ann K.
Dear Santa,
As you know, it’s been a lousy year. We have been looking forward to a visit from you to make things right again. But DO NOT COME HERE THIS YEAR! STAY AWAY! You could get our virus and never come back again. We can hang on until next Christmas, trust me! All I want for Christmas is for you to survive in 2021! Margo
By the way, a few days ago I played pétanque with some friends and we had a grand time. One of our new members (David Freeman) wrote an account of this game and I present it to you for your appreciation.
“In the gritty world of pétanque, where a tiny pebble can cause heartbreak, two teams desperately fought to prevail, and with the score tied at 12-12, up stepped David to win it for his team. Without the benefit of cheating, he made a nice shot, near the cochonnet, for the lead. The rival team sent up Ann, their last hope. With ice-water running through her veins (my guess, or maybe herbal iced tea?), she stepped into the circle of truth and delivered what can best be described as “a minor miracle,” her boule cutting through the atmosphere in a trajectory as precise as her brain programmed it, delivered by fine-tuned muscle-fibers. When gravitational forces settled her boule, and the dust cleared, it rested in hallowed terrain, nearest the assigned target. Ann’s endorphins of triumph kicked in, and somewhere, Marco Foyot was smiling. David, a poor sport, could only think of what might have been, and was heard to utter the classic rejoinder, “Oh, shit!”.
Isn’t lyrical… or maybe ganja induced? I will let you judge and reward that gentleman as you see fit.
Take care Santa, and don’t overdo it with firewater on New Year’s Eve.
My best to Fido and Mrs. Claus!
Alain