COLUMN LEFT/ GEORGE BLACK : Will St. Nick Grant George All He Asks? : Out of the trash bin, a presidential appeal for North Pole intervention.

On the morning after Christmas, an intrepid investigative reporter masquerading as a trash collector came across a crumpled letter in the presidential garbage can at Camp David, among the empty bottles of Chateau Lafite ’61 and the J.C. Penney wrapping paper. It appears to bear some relation to the role of foreign policy in the 1992 presidential campaign.

Dear Santa:

I know I haven’t written to you since I was a kid, but I thought since you’re someone who travels as much as I do, you might be able to help me out of a jam at this festive time.

First, any chance you can put the Soviet Union back together again? I know they don’t call it that any more, but Commonwealth of Independent States doesn’t seem to roll around in my mouth somehow. Some of my people say there’ll be fascist crazies running around soon with nukes. Golly, but I miss Mikhail, miss our little chats.

I can’t really say I get Yugoslavia either. Personally I can’t see how you’re supposed to tell a Serb from a Croat. Too early to say if America has a meaningful role in this one, so I guess I’ll just maintain a prudent silence. Barbara and I sent Tudjman and Milosevic Christmas cards with a picture of the Liberty Bell and a copy of our Constitution. That ought to get their attention if they share our commitment to democracy and free markets. Still and all, it does kind of bug this President to see the Europeans running with the ball on this one, especially the Germans. Which reminds me: Helmut doesn’t seem to return my calls as fast as he used to. Anything you can do here?

One of my aides says he saw a poster on the street the other day that said, “Saddam Hussein still has a job, do you?” Now I have to tell you, that really ticked this President off. I’ve stopped watching network news since they started showing those Kurds again, what with the snows starting and all. Some bad stories out of Kuwait, too, since we liberated them. Can’t seem to get the emir to listen to our people on the democracy thing. Seems like a lot of those rich Kuwaitis who sat out the war in Monte Carlo are back buying up gold. Now that doesn’t bother me in itself--hey, if they were here they’d be Republicans--but can’t we keep it out of the papers? After last year I thought Marlin F. had these guys on the team.

Any chance of calming Congress down on China? I tell the liberals, hey, back off now, I know these guys, spent some time there, climbed the Great Wall with them. My brother Prescott built a country club outside Shanghai--neat place, very exclusive, you’d think you were in Texas. China could be a terrific market for GM--think of it, a billion Chevy Caprices. I know they have to build the roads first, but listen, that country is going places if we only give them a chance.

As you know, Japan I also find pretty upsetting. But with your help maybe I can get them to buy a couple hundred-thousand fuel pumps and window-locking devices from Iacocca’s people when I’m in Tokyo next month. I told Jim B., I said look Jim, doesn’t that make me look more like a salesman than a statesman, but he came right back and said, Mr. President, these are lean times, Joe Sixpack is hurting, you have to rise to the occasion. As you know, I trust Jim implicitly, he’s the only person I even talk to about the New World Order. You have to run these things out of your hip pocket.

Barb and the boys seem to think maybe the Dems are on to me about the global vision thing. George Jr. even made a joke at dinner about the emperor not having any clothes, but I made him cut that out. Even so, a little insurance wouldn’t hurt.

Can you get all of the other side’s candidates a copy of that neat “America First” card to hang above their beds? Keep their minds on things at home; that way I can still run on my great foreign-policy record. I think most of them have got the message already, but no harm driving it home. That Southern fellow--what’s his name, Winton? Minton?--seems to be the only one who’s stacked up any frequent-flyer miles, but I think I can handle him. Thanks, by the way, for taking care of Mario C.

One last thought. Maybe you can put a word in Saddam’s ear, have him do something really dumb? Invade Saudi, maybe? Barb says she can hardly remember what our desert victory was about any more, and one of my aides forgot Stormin’ Norman’s name the other day. Called him Schwarzenegger, can you believe it?

Sorry to bug you with all this Santa, but shoot, things are getting desperate.

Sincerely, George.