Sunday, May 14, 2017

The Not a Christmas Letters, Part 1

This is the first widely distributed "Not a Christmas Letter"- it was originally sent out to a collection of friends in early 2006 by email. There was a predecessor, but it had an audience of one. I probably like this one least of the four in the series - portions of it seem a little forced. Nevertheless, it's probably worth putting out there.


This is not a Christmas letter, either. 

For one thing, we didn’t send out a Christmas card this year. We have not lost the holiday spirit, we simply looked around and said “What the $%^*! How’d it get to be December 20th?

I have no clue.

I’ll try to spend a couple of minutes hitting some highlights of the year as I see them, as well as a brief description of some of the characters involved. Some of the names have been changed to protect the allegedly innocent.

In November, everything we owned blew up.

Jan ordered the semiannual HVAC evaluation from Rick, our trusty HVAC guy. He dutifully came out, looked in the crawlspace, and said “Umm, there’s a problem with your heater boxes.”
“What kind of problem?”
“The kind of problem where the insulation starts coming off and it burns your house down.”
“Oh. Rick, is there any kind of really, really expensive pimp heater boxes you could get to match the really, really pimp a/c units you installed which are roughly the size of a Fiat?”
“No problem – we’ll get on that right away”

Actually, it helps to have a seriously pimp HVAC system when you run the heat and a/c on consecutive days. Such is the lot when you live in Houston.

“There’s a cold front coming! No, wait, it’s a warm front! No, wait, it’s not a front at all? Did I hear tornado warning? There’s a risk of Oldsmobiles flying around? Oh wait, that would be Toronados. Darn.”

Anyway, if you ever see a headline that says something like “Woodlands man assaults Weather Channel anchor”, that’s probably me. Just the bald guy, though – not any of the pregnant blonde chicks.

Anyway, after that, I was sitting peacefully in the driveway, replacing non-functioning BMW parts, when Jan walks up. “What are you doing?”
Jan sits down on the tire. I’m done explaining, yet she’s not leaving.
“What?”
“Sparks just shot out of the stereo receiver and it’s not making any sound now – is that bad?”

Did I mention I’m really not a huge fan of November?

Actually, that was balanced out somewhat by Camp Cullen – Connor and Rowan both attended this year again. This was not the plan – I was only going to take Connor, but Rowan was so excited about Cullen I couldn’t say no. Classic Y camp stuff – archery, riflery, crafts, poker after the kids go to sleep… This was definitely the last shot for her for Cullen, though – the older girls have some more opportunities planned – stay tuned. As Rowan gets older, I am shifting more of my focus to Connor’s group with the YMCA Parent-Child program – Rowan’s had her shot, right?  I’m kind of kidding but it is difficult balancing the demands of two groups – fortunately, I couldn’t as for a better bunch of guys – the campouts have become like mini-vacations to me.

Rita


We stayed in town for Rita – after much agonizing, and watching the storm to see if it would turn North, it did. It was amazing to see the number of people who were leaving the city – I drove out to the freeway and looked South on that Thursday – it was stopped cars as far as you could see. Everything was shut down – no food, no gas, no water – we had a good deal of stuff on hand so we would have been okay either way. Probably half of the neighborhood evacuated, and maybe two or three houses put boards up. For the rest of us, the preparation consisted of pacing nervously and wondering whether we should cut out. Fortunately, my mother and brother were in San Angelo, so they just stayed there. We never lost power during the storm but were subject to rolling blackouts afterward.

Vacation


This year we went to Disneyland for the 50th anniversary. I went to Disneyland every year from about 1967 to 1990, and it was always a high point for me. The trip was always ostensibly for my father’s birthday – it never clicked until I was much older that it was something he did for us, rather than the other way around – and even in the 70’s when no one had any money, we always went, we never had any restrictions on what we could eat, and we always got a souvenir.
This time around we stayed on the property, at the Disneyland Hotel – the whole crew went, including my mother and brother. I would recommend staying there if you go – having everything in the room, even down to the wallpaper, be Disney-themed really adds something. Everyone had a good time, even if we were somewhat sleep-deprived at the end of the stay.



Vacation 2


Jan turned forty (40) years old in October. She started groaning about it about a year ago. I’ve tried to be sympathetic but I genuinely not understand the fascination with age and numbers. It’s not like something magical happens on your birthday, you go from being a nubile young maiden to an old crone in an instant.

“Dude, what happened to her – I saw her last week and she was hot, like smokin’ hot.”
“Yeah man, she turned 40 last Friday”.
“Bummer.”

Anyway, to ease her pain, I took her on a 4-day cruise to Cozumel. We slid between the storms and were probably some of the last people to see Cozumel in a somewhat intact configuration. On our out trip, we rented a Jeep, drove to San Gervasio, and hung out for the rest of the time at a beach club and ate ceviche. Driving in Mexico is always an experience. On the way through San Miguel there were families of nine on a single moped dragracing us at stoplights, and on the way back we followed what I can best describe as the only trash truck driven by a WRC driver. You haven’t truly lived until you’ve seen a trash truck in a 4 wheel drift at 65 kph. Oh, and if you ask a Mexican policeman for directions in Spanish, he will courteously give you a detailed answer – also in Spanish. You will not understand them.

Random Connor


This summer, Connor caught a bass in the pond in the adjacent neighborhood – it was pretty good sized. Connor always pretty much acts like the world should come to him, and it pretty much does. It’s never a surprise when he catches a bass on the first cast or wins the free Coke by looking under the cap 4 times out of 8 purchases. He is in Kindergarten this year – his good nature and imagination make him kind of a favorite. He’s been hanging around Powell since he was 2, so this year he pretty much walked in like he owned the place. He seems adept at mathematics but has resisted reading with any degree of facility – I fear he will eventually become an engineer. He’s kind of a big kid, but not really chunky or lanky – he basically looks like a scaled-down 15 year old.  He also possesses a rather quirky sense of humor. On an unrelated note, Connor’s birthday party was delayed this year because of Rita, and he would not admit to being 6 until he had his “friend” birthday in October – “okay, who’s six here?”
-Connor, not raising his hand
“Connor, come on, put your hand up”
“Mom, I’m not 6 until I have my friend birthday party”
In honor of his 6-ness he has adopted the appellation Con6nor.

Random Rowan


Rowan started middle school this year. When I was growing up, there was no such thing as middle school – 5th and 6th were just the highest elementary school grades. Best I can figure, it’s kind of a junior version of junior high school – you have a locker, and rotate between different classrooms, but it’s all on the same hallway. I guess you have to train for two years to go to junior high school for two years. So far, the largest single benefit of middle school is that Rowan got to take the class guinea pig – “Senor Pablo” – home with her. We celebrated by buying $50 worth of accessories for its 2 ½ week stay. It turns out that guinea pigs love cilantro – he just hoovers it up by the bunch. Other than that, his main tricks seem to be

a)    walking through a length of pipe, and
b)   looking kind of furry

This seems to be enough for Rowan, though, so I guess it’s good enough for me. We do have a new Y camp coming up in late January – Camp Hamann Ranch – and a few other things to do together. Oh – she was outed this year as a dancer since this was a show year and she did the Nutcracker -  she can no longer keep the fact that she’s been dancing since she was 3 a secret. She always looked kind of dancy just standing there; now she’s actually trying – her instructors seem pleased. Since she is a 10 year-old girl, everything is cuuuuuuute! The first time I heard the high-pitched squeal, I thought that perhaps something heavy had fallen on her. Nope – turns out they all talk that way. Go figure.

The PTO Mafia


Jan would tell you about this herself, but the first rule of the PTO Mafia is that you don’t talk about the PTO Mafia.
Let me put it to you this way – last spring, they sold me six seats and a parking space at a free school event – the fourth grade graduation – for nearly two hundred dollars. I’ve probably said too much already.
From my totally disinterested and detached observations, I can say the following:

a)    It takes a lot of time
b)   They do a lot of stuff  - including, this year for the first time, mentoring another PTO in CISD
c)    Starbucks would go out of business without their continued patronage

She also serves as an academic room mom for Connor’s class.
In short, she spends enough time at Powell that she has her own access badge, and there are a lot of people who would be surprised to find out that she does not work there.

The rest of her time is spent trying to prevent me from buying more cars, or at least from modifying the ones we have.

“You know, I think the BMW would look good slammed on bags”
“No, it wouldn’t”
“Okay……..how ‘bout just a really big stereo, then?”

 

Interlude


Rowan and Connor are currently eating lunch and arguing about who has a better memory. If I remind them of this conversation tomorrow, they will have no recollection of it.

More random stuff


Jan volunteered me for a band this year. Keep in mind I had essentially not played for 15 years. I have asked her to refrain from volunteering me for anything else I used to do. “Oh, you need someone to climb an 800 ft, 5 pitch vertical wall with you? I’m pretty sure Jer’s free this Saturday!”
Anyway, we played a pretty successful neighborhood party, then they played a pizza place without me when I was at Cullen with Rowan and Connor. I spend a lot of time during practice saying things like “you know, if I threw in an excerpt from the Peanuts theme instead of the guitar break, I think that’d sound really cool”. They spend a lot of time looking at me funny. Art is representational by its nature anyway.

I also mostly shuttered my practice to go in-house with a client in the fall in a Business Development position. Some of you may be saying “What would he do in a business development position? He was a psychologist before he was an attorney.”

To you I say “Shhhhhhhh!”.

Move along, nothing to see here

I hope that your 2006 is at least not boring. Sometimes, that’s the best we can hope for.


j

No comments:

Post a Comment