I had a talk with Santa last night. We had hash cookies and Widmer. He said, "Many of the children that receive their presents secretly understand that the Pokemon doll wrapped with cheap paper and scotch tape ribbon comes from their parents, and that as products of such members of the consumer culture they themselves lack the kind of moral fiber that warrants Clausian caliber giftage. As a result, their toys go out of fashion, break, or generally lose their magic before next Christmas. I think the release of Toy Story 2 this season is a brilliant marketing strategy, but that is all it is - marketing. strategy. By the way, here's your gift."

He handed me a medium-sized dark green box, ribboned (ribboned!) in crimson red. "For me?" I told him. I was really astounded.

Santa nodded.

I was hesitant to rip it, the sacrilige raising the hair on my neck. But then I realized it was just Rudolph breathing behind me. The ribbon came off with one swift tug at the end and the wrapping, sans tape, simply fell away.

It was a pair of genuine North Pole(tm) Santa Underpants. Red and Green. I'm in love.