What I'm wishing for

Every Christmas, I'm reminded of how hard it is to select the perfect gift. Take last year, when my homemade crayons (in a recession year, making something useful from my wax collection seemed like a fiscally responsible choice) were received with obscenities. Or the year before, when I got everyone gender-neutral linen jumpsuits; bewilderment was not the reaction I was seeking.

But I'm much easier to shop for, because I always tell you what I want. This year, at the top of my list is a new Apple TV box.

GoogleTV has failed to impress in its infant state, so for the mean time the Apple version will perform my stream-from-computer-to-television-set needs just fine.

I also want some books on two subjects I'd like to learn more about: trees and stars. Stars, because I think it's a romantic talent to be able to point out a constellation to your date. Trees, because you'll want to momentarily interrupt her concern when she realizes she is alone in a dark forest with you.

Lastly, I want a pet bird. I know they aren't the cleanest animals around, but then again I take my share of poo's on the living room floor, so who am I to judge? I think that the coolest bird to have would definitely be an ostrich. The only things more legendary than hanging out with an ostrich on your couch are things that have been made into Ridley Scott films.

But if I don't get any presents whatsoever, in delayed payback for 2005's "Things With Sam's DNA On Them" scrapbook...I suppose I'll understand.