Since I’m a Christmas procrastinator and can’t shop effectively until I’m really getting in the way of the rest of the entire, desperate last-minute flock, it may surprise you to know that, like the chubby guy in the red suit, this chubby guy in the red sweater (see above photo) has also made a list, checked it twice, and so on.

Now, I’m not up on the naughty and nice stuff. But I know what I want. And I know what everyone else in Johnville is gonna get.

Just a couple of rules.

Rule No. 1: This Christmas in Johnville shall be absolutely, 100 percent Poke-free. I shall neither give nor receive any electronic Pokeman. Mon. Whatever. No movie Pokemon, no action-figure Pokemon. No Poke-cards. Nothing.

Rule No. 2: No collectibles of any variety or value shall enter Johnville this holiday season. In two words: Bah, Humbeanie. No beanie babies. No beanie bears. No beanie beers. No beanies, no matter how teeny. And no baseball cards. No autographed Home-Shafting-Channel-endorsed O.J. knives. Get it?

Other than that, I’m game for anything. And if you don’t tell anyone, I’ll let you know who’s getting what.

Jamie Cassidy’s getting a tattoo of a permanent snarl where her formerly pleasant smile used to be, along with a monthly elbow-sharpening session and a healthy Martina Tinklova. Game-in, game-out, those are the only things that keep the big Bear straddling that fine line between talented but struggling and downright dominant.

The Black Bears perimeter players – Kristen McCormick, Lacey Stone, Kizzy Lopez, et. al. – get to play through a few mistakes without having to look over their shoulders for the quick hook they know’s coming.

Joanne Palombo-McCallie gets a rotation she can trust without constant tweaking, a healthy pregnancy and a beautiful baby.

John Giannini’s going to get a genuine Hawaiian sunburn and a win over UCLA before Christmas and some needed frontcourt depth from Carvell Ammons immediately afterward.

Team clown Nate Fox gets a whoopie cushion, Groucho glasses, and some of those chattering, laughing teeth just to keep his teammates amused on the 5,194-mile journey to Honolulu.

Shawn Walsh and the hockey Bears? Some say they got their gift with their second national title. But my sources in the elf corps tell me the big guy in the red suit’s planning to wait until March to give Walsh another hot goalie for the postseason run.

Those high school coaches who have begun hearing the rumbling from disgruntled parents and school boards after four or five games? They’ll get a reprieve. And those parents and school board members will get the flu. And laryngitis. Take that.

And me?

Of course, I want a few things, too.

I want to catch a fish through the ice. A big fish. The fish of a lifetime. Of course, come open-water season, I’ll want to catch the same fish again. I’ll settle for his big brother.

I want to see good things happen to good people.

I’d like to see hard work rewarded. Good deeds applauded.

I want to spell everyone’s name right and to write stories that sing. I want Bangor people to realize that we don’t like Brewer better. And vice versa.

But of course, I’ll take whatever I get. And like it.

Because really, we’ve all got something we ought to recognize this holiday season. We live here, after all. And things are pretty good in these parts.

Happy holidays.

John Holyoke is a NEWS sportswriter.