Santa and the Actor

Dear Santa,

Well, the season is upon us. And I know that your work is for the children. But I wanted to write you a letter, anyway. And I want to write a letter just like the kids get to, I want to tell you what I want for Christmas. But before I do, let me say a profound thanks. Thanks for always being there, making my young holiday seasons such a magical time, filled with anticipation and excitement and bright imagination. And thank your elf staff and reindeer for all the lessons they have imparted about the joy of giving and holiday cheer. I of course have certain intellectual problems with the religious element of your holiday, and I grapple with it every year, but I prefer to think of you as nondenominational, open to all regardless of personal beliefs. Because the joy you see in a child’s eyes on Christmas morning makes all spiritual debates about dogma completely irrelevant. It’s just the joy. So thank you so much for continuing your quest to bring all children some kind of happiness.

Also please understand that I don’t want you to fulfill my wish list until all the children are taken care of, and all those less fortunate than me of whom I realize there is a copious amount, but…if you have time. (And I hope I used “whom” correctly in that last sentence, but quite frankly I’ve always found the who/whom thing confusing.) All I’m saying is, if you have time, I would like my wishes granted. And I know this is the season of giving, and I will give all I can to those that I can give to, but I would like to receive as well. Nothing to crazy, mind you, it feels like a reasonable wish list. Unfortunately, I’m afraid that you (and Lady Luck, perhaps) are the only one who can give me what I want. And I know that it is simply what I want. To define my wishes as “needs” would be selfish, although I’m pretty sure most of the people who live in my tax bracket do consider what I’m about to ask for as “needs.”

You see, I need to replace my drain pipes. You know, that go to the sewer. They are old and are starting to back up on a regular basis. The price tag, from the lowest bidder, is $3600. This probably doesn’t seem like a lot of money to some, but I have my mortgage and all my monthly bills, and I don’t have anything extra. I certainly don’t want you to jam a bunch of cash in my stocking, because mere charity isn’t exactly what I’m after here. I would like to at least feel that I’ve earned those drain pipes. So…is there any way you can get me a job? Any job would be good, but if there is any way you could make it a steady gig, that would be a true dream come true. The trickle down economic theory isn’t working for me these days. And I know my chosen profession is a little bit trickier than most of the 99%, as I am an actor. If the best I can get is a commercial or two, I will gladly take it with a smile and grateful handshake. But I got into show business to work, and if I had a place to do it with any degree of regularity, that would be great. Because I am an actor and I want to act. All the time. I certainly didn’t get into it to lead some kind of lavish movie star lifestyle, but I would like to feel less stressed about how I might pay for drain pipes (and my house needs new windows because they are all cracked, and it also needs an exterior paint job and the garage needs a new door. My wife, I’m sure, would appreciate remodeling the bathrooms and kitchen as they are in a rather poor state. And really, if I can just get those things, I will feel satisfied, even if when I bought the house I dreamt of converting the garage into a man cave and adding on to the front of the house to create a little more room in which to move around.) I guess what I’m saying is I’d like to do at least slightly better than simply breaking even all the time.

I know I’m not special. I know I’m not better than anyone else. But letters to you, Santa, are about dreams, and these are mine. To work a lot, and to feel financially comfortable, this is my dream. And please remember that I want the children and completely downtrodden to come first. Food and shelter for all, if you can. But if you manage to get all that done this Christmas, and somehow have even a little time left over, could you please? Just a job for old Todd, here. Just a job.

Lots of love, Santa, and have a Merry Christmas. Let me know if there’s anything I can do.

Forever your believer and champion, Todd.

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