`TWAS THE GUY BEFORE PC WHAT'S WITH THIS GIGGLY, OBESE, ELDERLY CAREER CRIMINAL?

Byline: Jillian O'Connor

A very large, very old, very happy man with too many pets will be wreaking havoc on our homes this year, and we'll enjoy it. But if this were a new concept, we'd be hiring tort lawyers to fend him off.

A big fat guy - morbidly obese, some would say - lands on a snowy roof with a team of reindeer (one with an electric-bulb nose) and squeezes down a chimney.

This tale baffled me as a child, since our house didn't have the oft-depicted slanted roof of every Santa tale; because reindeer lack the concave hooves of mountain goats, which would allow them to stand comfortably on a slanted surface; and because the triple-decker in which I was raised had no discernible chimney, much less a fireplace. My mother explained that away by saying Santa simply walked in through the front door, which, of course, was always bolted.

In the city, Santa breaks and enters.

After his unlawful entry, he scuttles around leaving presents for kids who have been ``good,'' solely in his secret estimation - which I'm sure would go over really well right now with parents who've kept up to date on the state of the Boston archdiocese, or the alleged goings-on at the Neverland Ranch.

It's hard to believe someone so fat could win approval in our current, collectively bulimic climate. In the real 2003, Santa would be chastised as a terrible role model by diet doctors, and avid Atkins practitioners would be setting out strips of beef jerky, with nary a carrot stick for the ill-fated reindeer, who would be slowly sliding off the roof.

Yes, that celebrated ``bowl full of jelly,'' which would likely resemble a lumpy, hardened mass in old St. Nick's midsection, would hardly win him fans for jolliness. A generation reared on Jennifer Aniston and Lara Flynn Boyle as models of health and beauty would most likely just say, ``Ewww, fat.''

Then they'd assume the chubby guy had a low IQ, which could help explain why he hangs out with those really short people with funny ears who only know how to make toys out of wood. (One can't even begin to imagine how a 2004 edition child would react to a gift of an oaken toy train, or a doll made of rags.)

Let us not forget that, after this man had sneaked into a home, leaving gifts on the sly, and nibbling (some say stealing) a few cookies, the average citizen would feel it was his or her right to shoot Santa for breaking and entering, theft and suspected pedophilia.

This is America, is it not?

And those there reindeer, and that sled filled with toys for the children not just on the block, but presumably all over the world, cannot be doing any favors for home insurance policyholders. Think of the yards and yards of ermine Claus would need to cash in to pay damages and restitution.

And remember that this guy is old. Like really old. White hair, semi-retired, opting for a cold clime rather than Florida. That never seems to go over well with people in families so splintered that they seldom see Grandma or even the elderly neighbors - at least not nearly as much as they see cable TV.

Nonetheless, once a year, we make room in our minds to celebrate a guy who's too fat and too old and too generous to ever otherwise garner positive notice in our society.

And maybe that's what Christmas is all about.