Dear Santa: Part the Fifth.

As I see it, one of the truths of the holiday season is that people seem compelled to throw fancy parties. We invite people into our homes--friends, family, neighbors, co-workers--people for whom we wouldn't make any extra effort any other time of the year but at Christmas-time we dress up for them. We make them roasts. We serve them expensive wines and fancy appetizers. The more confident among us attempt complicated desserts, the rest of us go to the bakery. China that was stored away on January 2 is dusted off and makes its annual appearance at the end of November. We chat for a few hours, reminisce, catch-up and them send them on their merry way, fat and happy. If we are going to host these expensive shin-digs, then what better way could there be to protect the wood of your credenza while they're going on than with a winter-themed Boston Red Sox table runner?

Dear Santa: Goes Fourth.

Look Ma! Just like the pros wear!

You too can be the proud owner of Red Sox Crocs. Terrorized by nightmares of the galoshes your mother used to make you wear in the spring and concerned that sticking your feet in rubber shoes will once again return them to that hot, sweaty state? Fear not. The good folks at Crocs have addressed this concern by selling their product replete with holes for both cooling and wafting away the odor caused by foot-sweat.

Worried that they are clunky, hideously ugly shoes? Psshaw. They're all the rage (or, at least, they were a couple of years ago.) Don't let naysayer-fashionistas prevent you from enjoying these lovely shoes.

Dear Santa: III.

Break out the bicycle pump, have I got a product for you this week. Barring a collision with buried sticks or pointy rocks, it's an inflatable sled. No hills? No snow? No worries; it pulls double-duty as a pool float. And what's more, it's reportedly great fun indoors as well.

Dear Santa: Part Deux.

Last week I introduced you to the Red Sox pedal car and, presumably, you all ran out and purchased one right away. Well, what better way could there be to accessorize your new set of wheels than with a pair of David Ortiz fuzzy dice?

If you didn't purchase the pedal car, then I don't know what to say. I suppose that maybe you might have found yourself too big to fit in it or maybe you were hoping for something a little more subtle, either way the fuzzy dice could easily be the product for you.

Whether you drive a sports car, a jalopy, or something in between, spruce up your vehicle with a pair of David Ortiz fuzzy dice. Because nothing says "I love you David" like a pair of dice with missing sixes dangling from your rear-view mirror.

Dear Santa: Premier.

Although the weather is about to take a turn for the better, it's still November. Both my birthday and Halloween have come and gone. Baseball is well and truly over. It's going to get dark disturbingly early this morning. The sea breeze has turned into a bracing wind. And I would swear that I saw a few snowflakes the other day. It's clearly time to start thinking about hunkering down to wait out the winter. But there are a few important things that need to be taken care of first.

If Thanksgiving is big (and it is), then Christmas is huge. Let's just leave it at: I can out holly-jolly the best of them. In order to aid the the acquisition of Red Sox related products, I've been mulling over creating a series of merchandise related posts for the past week and a half. I wasn't entirely certain I wanted to take on the project (as I envisioned it) but when I checked my e-mail today there was an advertisement for exactly the type of thing I was thinking of. If ever there was a sign, then this was one.

The Red Sox Pedal Car.

It's the coolest mode of transportation for tiny people everywhere. Why ride a bike when you can tootle around in this? Environmentally conscious and physically exhausting, it's a calorie burning juggernaut. Squeeze yourself in and take a trip down to the corner store. Just imagine the looks you'll get.

For Those Who, Obviously, Have Too Much Money to Begin With...

A luxury napkin company in Wisconsin called Jerseynaps has been awarded the contract to provide the napkins for the All-Star Game Gala and Pre-game celebration.



So when you think luxury napkins your first instinct is to wonder what the hell a luxury napkin is anyway, right? Are they made of silk with gold threaded through them? Taffeta? Tulle? (I can't think of any non-cotton fabrics that would be absorbent.) Secondly, you've got to wonder: How could I not know that such a product as a luxury napkin existed? Why have I been rubbing my face and my fingers down with rough cotton or *shudder* paper? Could I seriously have saved all of those shirtsleeves from ruination?



As it turns out, the napkins they will be producing are paper. The twist is that they can be folded into the shape of a baseball jersey that will look like the All-Star Jersey. Nifty, huh?

But baseball is about the common man and the common man can't possibly afford to attend either of those soirees, you protest. How can I get my grubby little hands on those napkins? Well, you can't. Not yet, anyway. MLB has decided, though, to sell the licensing rights to the napkin company so that they can produce napkins depicting the jerseys of eight major league teams including the jersey of your Boston Red Sox. So fear not, chickens.

Otanjou-bi Omedetou Gozaimasu!

1.) It means: Happy Birthday, person I don't know particularly well! It was intended for Hideki Okajima, whose 32 birthday is today. But I suppose you could also apply it to Jesus, if that's the way you swing.

2.) This was my brother's Christmas Eve present:

It's a set of Boston Red Sox Uno cards. In and of itself, it's kind of neat. For the most part, it's just normal Uno but the cards have pictures of Sox players on them (not being rule readers, we didn't know what to do with the Daisuke card but that's beside the point.) This is the point:

You can't see it clearly (because I have a crappy camera) but that is a picture of Alex Cora. Someone over at MLB merchandising, however, seems to believe that his name is Alex Cara. Along the ellipse, under his left hand, they've spelt his name CARA. I even thought that maybe the licensing had been agreed to via implied, oral consent and was, therefore, unofficial. But nope, there was a nifty little hologram on the back of the package and a claim that it was official. Seriously people, how do you get that wrong?