Tis the season for letting those close to you know what you want for Christmas. It can range from "my two front teeth" to "peace on earth,” and a whole lot of stuff in between. This year's requests could be a bit more daunting than in years past: universal acceptance of everyone's right to have/do just about anything or everything; accommodation for all that may be wrong in one's life, whether it be as a result of my own doing, or merely the hand that was dealt me; the right to unfettered immigration to America; the right to affordable (by whose definition?) health care; the right to be treated with respect; the right to possess firearms; the right to peacefully assemble; the right to speak my mind, and the list goes on.
For me, there is the right to be left alone, free to pursue legitimate endeavors as I see fit (provided I am not infringing on the rights of others). Oh sure, you have the right to point me in the correct direction, or provide me with the wisdom you have learned over time (perhaps the hard way), but please don't act on the belief you know what is best for me. I may not agree, and that is my right! That is between God and yours truly. Which brings me to one of the things I do not want for Christmas: poor sportsmanship by "iconic" NFL players. Please, just play your hardest, run hard, tackle decisively, avoid head-to-head contact (no smash mouth/in your face talking), and when you score a touchdown, merely hand the ball to the referee and return to your place on the bench. Spare us the antics and idiocy of the "celebrations" in the end zone, for in the end you could be singing: "I'm getting nothing for Christmas, cuz I ain't been nothin' but bad!" Keep Christ in Christmas!
— Bill Kersting, Spencer