Dear Santa: All I want is ...

I've been good, Santa.

Really, I have.

It's been almost a year since I publicly and unashamedly begged for something in this column.

I haven't pestered anyone for real Southern pralines, all crumbly and filled with pecans.

I didn't embarrass my family by mentioning, week after week, that I love fresh, ripe tomatoes.

I have avoided, under great stress, reminding my dear readers that the best way to bribe a newspaper editor is with Hershey bars.

King size.

Almonds optional.

Did I ever tell you about the judge who bribed me with a Hershey bar? He got what he wanted.

I'm that easy.

What has pleasantly surprised me about my bold begging is the fact that readers take pity on me and deliver the goods.

Is this a great country, or what?

Some readers have personally delivered whatever I was pining for at the time. What a swell bunch of good folks.

What I'm hankering right now is -- what else? -- a fat slice of fruitcake filled with candied fruit and walnuts and raisins and, perhaps, soaked in some decent rum.

'Tis the season, and so forth.

And nothing makes me jollier than chewing a good-sized bite of fruitcake.

It looks like I'm back in the begging business, right?

OK.

I am not begging for fruitcake for entirely selfish reasons.

On the contrary.

I am willing to take unwanted, homeless, orphaned fruitcakes from all who get them from relatives, business associates and friends who don't know what else to buy. These are gift buyers who would never buy a fruitcake for themselves, of course, and wouldn't like it if someone gave them a fruitcake.

What we have here is a supply-demand situation that is way heavy on the supply side.

I am simply offering a bit of equilibrium by providing the demand.

It's the least I can do.

So, in the spirit of the season at hand and with full knowledge that postal carriers are lugging tons of soon-to-be-abandoned fruitcakes all over creation, I hereby officially offer to take said fruitcakes off anyone's hands.

At no additional charge.

Some readers, I know, are asking as they munch their Wheaties: How can Joe possibly eat all that fruitcake?

Not to worry.

I have perfected the art of rationing fruitcakes to last for months.

And I have found sure-fire methods of inducing others to enjoy the fruitcakes of my labors even though they profess to hate fruit-laden cakes of any variety.

I'm good at what I do.

So, unless these readers want to suffer the anguish of fruitcake guilt, I heartily suggest that they get their fruitcake to me at their earliest convenience. There's no need to suffer from post-fruitcake-delivery depression any longer than necessary.

So, Santa, does my holiday spirit of helping mankind qualify for any extra Christmas perks?

Just asking.

I'll bet you get a lot of fruitcakes, huh?

I'm here to help. My chimney is large. My no-fruitcake-will-be-refused policy is at your disposal.

Sincerely, Joe

R. Joe Sullivan is the editor of the Southeast Missourian.