Dear Santa: I want $1 billion, and boxers

One of my earliest memories is of being in my family’s blue Oldsmobile headed to the Sanger-Harris store in Irving on a cold December night to have a straightforward discussion with Santa Claus.

Funny how our memories work. I don’t remember Santa himself or what I asked for that year, just the darkness of the car that December night and the fact that I felt quite serious about the task at hand.


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