“Looking for the best cookies in Santa Monica, CA? Drop an iPad 3 off at Sarah’s house and try some tasty snickerdoodles and organic milk.”
Santa’s Nice List
I know there is a high demand for iPads this year, in particular among children. I’m not saying a child should go without an iPad because of me, but if there is a shortage put me towards the top of the iPad List. I haven’t always been good; it’s true, and I know this because you gave me a Sony MiniDisc the year the iPod arrived. I rocked those 12 songs a disc as hard as I could for as long as I could. I told myself that Sony was still a giant in the field known for its hardware elegance and cutting-edge technology while I cried myself to sleep with black headphones.
Then in 2008 you dropped the black coal of a third generation Zune into my stocking. How could I be ungrateful? You engraved it and told me it would hold all of my songs, and, while not a trendy iPod, it had superior technology and fewer DRM issues. I was touched by the engraving, and it’s true the music sounded wonderful, but I wasn’t too sad the day I was robbed on a bus from Shimla to Jaipur. Do you think the new Indian owner of my personally inscribed Zune knows what a Zune is? Is there a similarly disappointed and naughty Indian child being taught a lesson by my stolen and re-gifted Zune? Are Zunes destined to be forever re-gifted to naughty children? I bet they get all the old original iPads too.
Santa, ALL my friends have iPads; they laugh as me. I have stacks and stacks of New Yorkers piled high like little leaning Tower of Pisas around my apartment. They date back a few years and grow dusty but I’m determined to read them. It finally rained one day after nine months of Southern California sun and I picked one up only to shriek and drop it in horror as a spider scurried away. Can you image the organizational Zen I’d feel with all crisp, clean New Yorkers at the touch of a finger on the new iPad mini?
I hear that poets whisper their poems to you on the New Yorker iPad App. I hear that you never have to throw 14 New Yorkers in a rage just to try to find that Food issue again. Where did it go? Santa, my paperboy is an old man. A paper-grandpa. I feel bad. He needs to retire, but he just keeps driving over an hour each day to deliver my Los Angeles Times. Every day my hands turn newsprint black and I’m reminded that I’ve been naughty again and haven’t deserved the original iPad or even the iPad 2. My arms ache just holding up the big pieces of paper and I have to read news that I’m not even interested in. Where are the laughing babies and flying cats? Which celebrity won’t I believe has a dirty secret? The news is already a day late by the time it arrives. My recycling bin has to be emptied all the time, Santa.
Over Thanksgiving I discover the joy of Hill Climb which helped me to deal with my family. Playing Hill Climb on my tiny iPhone screen is hurting my eyes. If only I could make that tiny Jeep climb the hills of the moon on an iPad App I’m sure I could cancel my optometrist appointment.
Did I mention that I like to bake? My iPhone is full of cookie batter finger swipes as we speak. I bake all sorts of cookies and I’m sure I could bake Santa’s favorite cookies if I had a bigger screen, maybe say on the new iPad, to read the recipes on. I bake cookies because I’m lonely. Don’t you think Siri would make a nice companion? I hear she knows everything. We could philosophize over wine while baking cookies together. She could tell me how many chocolate chips to add, how chocolate chips are made and the history of chocolate chip cookies. I could explain to her what human love feels like.
I’m pretty sure Siri already knows what love is though Santa, love is an iPad under a Christmas tree, wrapped up in an impossibly pristine white box, with sharp and precise right angles that only your elves can make. Love is designed in California, de-clutters the home, and allows for retirement. Love has cookie batter always smeared on its high resolution iPad glass face.