By JANE LOTTER

(Editor's note: This month the Jet City Maven is happy to present a new humor column, "Jane Explains," which will run six times a year.)

Hello, and welcome to my column. Here I will endeavor to explain on a semi-regular basis, and in 800 words or less, many of life's mysteries. My qualifications for writing such commentary are heady. To begin with, I am an accomplished prevaricator and fable-teller. I'm also the composer and lyricist of the hit Broadway musical "Cats," the first woman astronaut and the inventer of Furby. I'm married to Tom Hanks (we met on-line), and my varied background as a circus performer, supreme court justice, and mule for the mob gives me a unique perspective on life's little problems.

I reside in the neighborhood of Maple Leaf, which, as any three-year-old will tell you, is properly pronounced "Make Believe." But if Maple Leaf ought to consider officially changing its name to Make Believe, I'd like to suggest a far more exciting name change for that part of Seattle known as Northgate. Citizens of Northgate, you're sitting on a gold mine and you don't even know it. Let me explain.

First of all, and let's be blunt, what mental image do you think the word "Northgate" conjures up for most people? An asylum for the criminally insane, perhaps? As in: "Is it Prince Charles you're looking for, luv? Coo, 'ee's been locked up in ol' Northgate these 10 years now. Mad as a March 'air, 'ee is." A Shakespearean drama? "Sire, the rebels are at the Northgate! They've scaled Toy Tropolis and are sacking the Lamont's 16-hour-sale." A political scandal? "Dumping that toxic waste and those pizza boxes in Thornton Creek was political suicide, Rovinghands! You and that featherbrained intern of yours have got the papers calling the whole thing Northgate."

You get the picture. And it isn't pretty. Therefore, I propose changing the name of Northgate (the mall, the neighborhood, the schools, the works) to - are you sitting down? - NORTH POLE. Think of it. The Trolley Tavern could become Santa's Dew-Drop Inn. Northgate Cobblers could rename itself North Pole Shoe Repair (get your Birkenstocks resoled by genuine elves!), Mr. Formal (tuxedo rentals) could become Mr. Informal (Santa suits). And that, ho-ho-ho, is only the beginning.

You can bet that 12 months out of the year people will flock to the land of elves and reindeer. Even during the most sweltering dog days of summer, the tourists and shopaholics will be scrambling to buy merchandise they don't need, humming Deck the Hall (or is it Deck the Mall?), and racing to get their pictures taken with jolly old Santa Nick.

The economic benefit to the neighborhood would be tremendous and I don't mean just at Northgate - excuse me - NORTH POLE mall. All the little satellite malls that have grown up over the years would also enjoy a terrific boost. Northgate Station, for example, could become North Pole Station (Silver Platters can call itself Silver Bells). Northgate Village could turn into North Pole Village, complete with snow-covered Bavarian facades. (And just watch Longs Drugs change its name to something old-fashioned and Dickensian sounding. Something like, oh, I don't know, Drug Emporium.)

But perhaps you're not a shopkeeper, you only live in the Northgate area. Of what benefit would a name change be to you? Plenty. For one thing, you'd never again have to take down your Christmas lights. For another, perhaps your friends and relatives have grown tired of visiting you in your drab little digs out in Northgate. If so, just imagine the excitement when you call them all up and tell them you're now living - quelle surprise! - at the North Pole. You'll soon be overrun with visitors, a surprising number of whom will be wearing white coats.

But, you say, this is a complete fantasy, or possibly a mild hallucination brought on by breathing the fumes of my over-the-counter hair coloring treatment. Either way, it's a fairy tale. Well, excuse me, but isn't Christmas supposed to be about believing in something magical? Something good, and grand, and no payments until after Feb. 1?

I, for one, say yes. And I ought to know. That's because, as I mentioned earlier, I reside year-round in Make Believe - the happy little neighborhood that I hope will one day be able to brag it's located right next to the North Pole.

Jane Lotter welcomes your comments. Send letters to Jane Lotter, c/o The Jet City Maven, 12345 30th Ave. NE, Suite H-I, Seattle, WA 98125.