Dear Baby New Year,

Greetings, physical embodiment of the most recent calendar year. My name is Alibaster K. Abthernabther, best-selling author, champion yacht racer, hot-air balloon enthusiast and joyous, optimistic reveler bathing in the infinite promise that the next 360-something days have to offer.

I am writing to ask a few favors of you. I'm not exactly sure if you take requests. However, please hear me out. Perhaps you could conference with other fabled specters and mythical creatures that occupy the imagination collective and attempt to fulfill my lofty wishes for 2009.

Or perhaps you will ignore my pleas in favor of screeching like a wounded banshee while you indiscriminately defecate on yourself, as this is what babies tend to do.

Peace on earth: I know this is a particularly tall order, and seeing as you have yet to master the use of your motor skills, I'm not exactly sure how you could achieve this. But there is something peaceful and innocent about a newborn child, an intangible quality that can quiet even the fiercest rage. Granted, if you want to pull this one off, you'd need to do so within the next month or so. Once you develop into an obnoxious, sullen teenager, these calming traits will have evaporated, and everyone will want to punch you square in your sulking, acne-riddled face.

A mutual understanding and respect among all living things: One could argue that this request is synonymous with the wish for peace on earth. However, I believe it goes much deeper, requiring all creatures to put aside difference and dispute and embrace an empathetic view of their global neighbor, so that we may all work toward socio-economic equality while preserving shared resources, and building a utopia rooted in admiration and communal value. One caveat, though: No fatties.

A fighting robot that transforms into a heavily armed racecar: If you can only grant one of my wishes, Baby New Year, please let it be this. While it would be nice to have universal peace and live among all peoples in harmony, driving a wicked-fast car that morphs into a battle-bot would be tops. Furthermore, I could use my robot racecar to realize my first two wishes, using threats of catastrophic destruction to bring peace and foster caring human relations. And anyone who challenged my decree for love and understanding would first need to best me in an auto race; a race they would surely lose, because I would blow them up with my hood-mounted sidewinder missiles.

Yours,

Alibaster K. Abthernabther

E-mail Alibaster at alibaster.k.abthernabther @gmail.com.