THE GOODS : The Real Toy Story : It may seem that kids hope for anything with a brand name for holiday gifts. But the anticipation of presents is what really turns them on.

It’s that time of year, and parents and kids alike are being bombarded with gift ideas. The Sunday papers carry a flood of advertising inserts, fast-food restaurants “tease” customers with miniature versions of the toys kids clamor for, and television besieges us with ads that run from the tantalizing to the ridiculous.

It’s hard to get a bead on what kids really want, what you’d like them to have and what you can reasonably procure for them. For instance, the “toy of the season,” figurines from the movie “Toy Story,” are nearly impossible to find (“Every single toy store in the city is wiped out,” insists one Hollywood toy store employee).

Do we cater to the kids’ fickle desires, knowing full well that Gooey Louie (a game in which players try to pick plastic “gooeys” out of Louie’s nose) and Cabbage Patch Baby Bath (with a “shower” that drizzles over the signature porcine baby) are novelties that may amuse only briefly? Do we take the educational high road with a ComQuest Plus laptop computer on which, we are led to be believe, children entertain themselves into eternity? Do we go for conventional toys, like Lincoln Logs, and perhaps sacrifice some of the luster on the kids’ faces come Christmas morning?

Or do we bite hard and drive across state lines in search of a Plasticine replica of Buzz the Astronaut?

There’s actually some research about what youngsters really want this year. And there are also the unvarnished words of the young.

“It’s hard for parents to know what kids want because it’s entirely different from what we wanted as kids,” explains psychologist Irla Lee Zimmerman of Los Angeles. In 1965, Zimmerman and a colleague asked 600 Los Angeles schoolchildren what they wanted for the holidays.

This year, Zimmerman replicated her study, and the contrasts were notable. “Kids are no longer asking for board games, but computer games--they’re really taking over. 75% of the boys and 35% of girls asked for games like Sega or Gameboy.” Another big difference: “In 1965, kids would just say, ‘I want a doll.’ Now, it’s by brand name, like Barbie or Power Rangers. Someone must be hitting them with a lot of advertising.”

Some other striking differences are era-specific. “There was a war going on in 1965, and 10% of the boys asked for war dolls, like G.I. Joe. No one asked for these this time. Now they want space figures.” Popular music also played a part in wish lists. In 1965, a lot of kids asked for a surfboard; this time, none did.

Zimmerman found only one constant: bicycles. “Twenty-five percent of kids asked for bikes this year, but that’s half the number that wanted them in 1965. I guess they’re all too busy playing video games.”

*

Seeking more details, I decided to query some experts at the Third Street School in the Miracle Mile district. Asking kids what they want Santa to bring them is like asking a starving man what he wants to eat.

“Toy Story, the game!” shouts Steve Ahn. “I saw a commercial. I also want the Power Ranger movie. I think Santa’s going to bring it for me.”

“I know Santa!” shouts one little girl. “His real name is St. Nicholas.”

We’re all crowded around a tiny table in Mrs. Galileo’s kindergarten.

“I want Hot Wheels Star Track,” says Gregory Joseph. “It goes in the tunnel and around the outside. I saw it on TV.”

“I want My Size Barbie,” says Allison Bergson. “I saw her on a commercial. And Baby Sip and Slurp. When you put this water in, she slurps.”

“I want a giant Pocahontas chocolate,” shouts one boy, who’s greeted with a chorus of “Eeewww!”

“Pocahontas is for girls! Boys aren’t allowed to play with Pocahontas. Only Batman!”

“And Batman’s brother too.”

One little girl, Nicole Ogino, remains quiet. When asked if there’s anything she’s seen on television that she wants, she shakes her head. “I want ice skates.” But her heartening request is quickly drowned out by two dozen kids chanting for Power Rangers and “Toy Story” figures.

Mrs. Matthews’ second-grade class is more orderly. At this age, most realize gift-getting is a matter of bargaining with parents.

Sang Duk Nam wants “Game Boy. I think my mom and dad will get them for me.”

The other kids shake their heads. “They just want to get you books and stuff. And that’s not fun,” says one. “Not fun at all.”

I add that I like my daughter to play with blocks, which receives a round of baby Bronx cheers.

“I don’t like blocks because I’m not a baby,” insists one little boy.

“Blocks are not for babies. I play with blocks,” Jeremy Williams bravely volunteers. “But I want Falconzord, from the Power Rangers. His wings bend over his head and his mouth opens and his tail moves. I asked my Auntie Deedee to buy it for me, ‘cause I don’t think my parents would.”

Tigran Bedirian wants “Mortal Combat 3 computer game. There’s like a lot of blood. People fighting. It’s a video game. I asked my dad, because my mom says I play too much . . . but she plays it with me.”

“I want a helicopter that you can control,” says Jake Leach. Other boys echo his wish; remote-control toys are big with second-grade boys, as are models they can put together themselves. The girls all seem to want teddy bears, games like Monopoly and puppies.

“I want a little dog so that I can play with it or walk it,” says Michelle Rastegar. She thinks for a moment. “And my little dog wants a bone.”

Mr. Hente’s fifth-graders are very clear about voicing what they want, even when they sense they’re shouting into the great abyss.

“A lot of people around my age want video games for Christmas instead of toys,” says Daniel Tjahjadi, “but a lot of the time we don’t get them.”

Eugene Kim agrees. “I want a Sega Saturn. It’s a play station that goes onto the TV. I didn’t ask my parents yet. They don’t like me playing with video games that much. They want me to do my homework.”

Cathy Lim, and about 10 other girls, wants “a Walkman, or a Discman, which plays CDs.” Every kid says they want a computer--or a new computer.

When asked if they think their parents will buy them these big ticket items--a Sega Saturn runs about $300, and computers up from there--the kids give a communal big groan. “No. They just want to buy you clothes and baby thingies,” one opines. “And books.”

After two hours and 200 suggestions, I realize that it’s really the kids’ expectations, not the toys, that are turning them on. The anticipation has them on their feet, running down lists of what they’d like--and if not that, then this. While they may initially bray for Power Rangers or Pocahontas, their deepest desires are not driven by what’s trendy, but by what’s possible.

In the words of kindergartener Daniel Bae, all kids really want for the holidays are “presents.”