Dear Santa Claus,
I know October is a little early to be sending you my wish list, but some of the items I’m requesting this year are slightly more difficult to lay hands on than the typical iPod/pony/Red Rider BB gun sort of loot you usually deal. In fact, you might have to open a research and development department in your operation to accommodate a few of these requests, but I promise you that the improvement in overall recipient satisfaction would be more than worth it. I foresee a 42% increase in your milk and cookie haul just over the first five years. As a heavy consumer of science fiction, I am plagued by a growing awareness that human achievement, despite recent advancements, is still lagging significantly behind our imaginations. In short, I’m tired of waiting for transporter technology to arrive.
And so, without further ado, here is my 2010 Christmas Wish List:
1. Star Trek food replicator. No recipes. No shopping trips. No chopping or braising or marinating for eight hours. Just press a button or speak to a computer, and “voila!”: fine cuisine made in the tradition of the planet of your choice.
2. Jet pack. Even the kids have their own jet packs on The Jetsons. They’re like the skateboards of the future. If you give me one, Santa, I promise to wear a helmet and to resist the temptation to laugh smugly at the people stuck in traffic hundreds of feet below me.
3. Room of Requirement. Ever since Neville first stumbled into the Room of Requirement while looking for a clandestine meeting place for Dumbledore’s Army, I have been imagining all of the uses to which I could put my own psychically transforming room. Guests pop in while you’re knee-deep in unfolded laundry? No problem! Bundle it all up and toss it into the Room of Requirement. (You don’t even need to do laundry, come to think of it: just ask the Room of Requirement to turn into a giant closet filled with clean clothes and wear something new every day!) Need a place to hide from the kids, who haven’t stopped arguing since they got home from school? The Room of Requirement becomes a relaxing spa, complete with clawfoot bathtub, candles, and soundproof walls to block the sound of the Lego war breaking out in the hallway. I need one, Santa!
4. TARDIS. The Doctor’s Time and Relative Dimensions In Space ship can travel to anywhere…and any time. I’d use it to travel back to ten p.m. Sunday night so I could get an extra night’s sleep in preparation for Mondays. I would also go back to fifth grade and stop myself from getting that truly horrendous bowl haircut. And I’d go to Scotland. You know, just to listen to the people talk.
5. R2-D2. Sharing your home with this small blue droid would be a little like having a pet. A pet that doesn’t shed, doesn’t pee on the carpet, and can interface with all your electronic gadgets. Plus he’s adorable. And, Santa, I promise to love him and walk him and feed him. What does he eat, anyway?
Well, that’s it. My whole list. I think you’ll agree that it’s not unreasonable to have high expectations in this age of technological wonders. I mean, look around at all the smartphones and Blu-ray players and tell me that we can’t figure out a way to beam ourselves to another planet (or at the very least from Coeur d’Alene to Snellville!) I have every confidence that your elves are up to the task. Just don’t tell Steve Jobs what you’re working on. He’ll find a way to link it to iTunes and stick a DRM on it.