Christmas is here… which is to say that Halloween has past. The stores have already filled their Christmas sections, and people have taken a lesson from the comical yet nearly deadly miscues of Clark W. Griswold - using valuable daylight to staple their lights to the house.  There is a warm air amid the impending chill that takes the leaves from the trees and our sweaters from the cedar chest.  It is a warm blanket knitted by belief, and the joy of gift giving that only the holiday season can bring.

This year, the holiday season brings us a little something extra – a new celebration of promise that eclipses Festivus, Christmas, Kwanzaa, and Hanukkah combined.  This holiday brings promises beyond the hopes of finally getting that Red Rider B.B. Gun that has eluded us.  This year, we can dream a little deeper about sugarplums and shiny things. Despite the country’s fiscal crisis and expected spending to be the lowest in more than 20 years; we can all breathe a little easier knowing that our stockings will not be left with little more than a lump of coal in the toe.

On November 4^th, late in the evening, the FAA picked up confirmation on its radar that our suffering will not go uneased.  We have been good boys and girls, and we have believed for 2 years.  And now, despite the best efforts of the nonbelievers, we know He is coming.  It’s Obama Claus, and he runs through the nighttime skies wearing the Original Air Jordan sneakers – rejecting programs that don’t work.  Tax breaks are going to be raining down like three pointers, because he is hot, hot, HOT!  Our defense will have a new look, with a “less is more” mentality.  We are going to spend less time in full court press, and more time guarding the basket. 

Oprah Winfrey knew this to be true – He is REAL.  And if you think she likes to give back, wait until you get a load of the sack on Obama Claus. He is ready to take back what was taken away from us the past 8 years.  To put it in perspective, it’s 8 holidays worth of kicks in the teeth and we’re going to get good dose of laughing gas and a brand new smile.  You need health care? You’re going to get health care.  You’re going to be back in your houses faster than you can say “Throw me the (ba)rock!”.  It is 4 years of holiday happiness coming to us; and every day a new gift.  Eat your heart out, Hanukkah. 

It’s a gift of hope for those seeking to finally leap over the racial barriers.  Want to grow up to be President?  Yes You Can.  Want to grow up to be a shining beacon of progressive equality to inspire the whole world?  Yes You Can.  Want to do drugs, associate with slum lords, terrorists and still bank on the fact that an economic crisis could overshadow the dwindling memories of 9/11 and keep you saying “The sky’s the limit!” if you can act cool, talk great, and get the news networks to really, really like you?  Yes You Can.  Want a full national security clearance despite no military service, limited experience in government, and a checkered past?  Yes You Can. This is not just a gift to our nation, but a gift to bad decision makers around the world.  With great timing, you can overcome anything.

We are going to get relief at the pumps.  He will make sure of that.  All the while, we will have more jobs created by investing in new forms of energy, and no jobs will be shipped overseas.  Our education system will never have been better, and soon it will rise from its current mediocre depths to serve as a lighthouse for seekers of higher education across the globe. 

Soldiers in the Middle East will soon be coming home, and reuniting with their friends, family, and loved ones after a job well done.  The fallen will know that their lives were not lost in vain, because He knows where the real conflict lies, and where the battle lines will be drawn.  He knows, more so than the troops in combat, that progress will be better served by calling it a half with 2 minutes left in the second quarter, going to the locker rooms, and returning in the 3^rd with a new game plan.  Unprecedented logic.  Innovation this progressive can be seen in only one other place -  a Mac commercial.

For those who had hoped that this year may finally be the year that gender would finally break through its glass ceiling, you will have to wait another 4-8 years.  But take solace in knowing that every stocking is going to be stuffed to the top in the form of a historical first lady with a Harvard education, values, and impeccable style.  A special gift to you, J. Crew… as you no doubt will be shipping out “ensemble” after “ensemble” based on the endorsements of the Mrs. Claus.

From the media, to movie stars… from MySpace, to Warren Buffet, the American people would like to thank you for making all of our dreams come true and all of our problems go away.  And to the angry mob that decided to go out and leave every Republican they could find swinging from a tree for getting them into this mess, you’ve got a lot of decorative nooses. Bonus. You should leave them up until at least February.

            This goes beyond the fact that our situation is in all likelihood at the bottom of a bell curve.  Getting this country back on its way up will be a slam dunk… as easy as shooting free throws.  Republicans, you weren’t so good at shooting free throws.  In fact, you weren’t so good at playing the game at all.  So you’re going to have to sit on the bench for a while – the few of you that aren’t being cut from the team, and watch the boys in blue show everyone how easy it is to jumpstart this nation via a series of fast breaks.  Will He dish? Or will He take it himself?  Either way, it’s a layup.

As for me, I wanted a basketball this year.  I’m hoping He gets around to giving me one, but I know He’s got a lot of stops to make, and a lot of dreams to fulfill. I can understand as much as the next guy that taking the place of Santa puts a lot on your plate. I must say that I was a good boy this year - and even though some people told me He wasn’t real, I believed.  Perhaps I was simply swept off my elephant (his name is Relroy) by that radiating warmth that surrounded me better than my favorite blanket.  I call my blanket “The Nub", and I’ve been using it a lot more lately because I don’t like the looks of my heating bill.  So I guess I got to feeling all warm and fuzzy too.  Or maybe I just wanted to believe and considered the alternative:  a lump of clean coal and a dead moose rotting in my garage.  Wait a minute.  That's not a moose - that's Santa.