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Yes! Part of last year’s
letter was featured in a nationally syndicated comic
strip! We have
now enjoyed the fifteen minutes of fame to which everyone
supposedly is entitled once in their lifetime. Well, in our case it
is more like a few seconds of less-than-total-anonymity, since
not one person has
told us they saw the comic, much less realize that it referred
to #1 daughter, Celeste.
Sigh... So
we have to manufacture a pitifully small amount of recognition
in this fashion.
Would someone who gets this letter please keep a copy in
their purse, or wallet, and ask Brian to sign it the next time
you see him? He
keeps waiting to be asked for an autograph, and the pens he
insists on keeping in every pocket—just in case—are starting
to leak.
For
those who don’t read “Adam” (which seems to be almost
everyone, darn it, though it appears in The Oregonian), the
title character works at home, writing Christmas letters for
people too lazy to do it themselves. A few months ago the
comic featured a request: “Readers with a strange or bizarre
Christmas letter may forward it to United Press Syndicate, Box
such-and-such, Kansas City, MO.” Strange or
bizarre? THAT’S
US!, we realized
immediately. And
to our great joy and relief (since portions of letters from
other families had been featured for several weeks, and Brian
was getting crotchety: “Ours is funnier than this crap they’re
publishing...damn fools...bah, humbug.”) And then came the
great day, Wednesday, December 10, 1997. The day Celeste’s
spending habits became known to the nation!
Well, you can tell the Adam comic was a highlight of our
year. Which kind
of tells you right off what kind of exciting life we
lead. Still, we
have some other things to share. Just don’t expect as
much humor as before; Brian is enjoying resting on his laurels
(oops, we didn’t mean to tell you about our sex
life.)
• We have a
vacation retreat now!
OK, actually, 1/4 of a tiny cabin on the Metolius
river, since we own it with three other families. It’s a wonderful place
to relax: no TV,
and the phone hardly ever rings. The Metolius has
to be one of Oregon’s most beautiful little rivers. We hike, we read, we
eat fudge from a store in Sisters, we keep the wood stove
burning. It’s a
good life.
Cross-country skiing to the Camp Sherman store, a mile
away, hopefully awaits us next month.
• On the home
front, we’ve done a little more remodeling (which would
surprise you, if you remember last year’s letter, and our
downstairs bathroom experience). We have mirrored doors
in our entryway now instead of wood doors. The only problem: each
mirror reflects what is in the other, so there is a delightful, and
rather disconcerting, “fun house” effect upon entering the
front door.
(refugees from the ‘60s prone to flashbacks—be
warned)
• Plans are being
laid for a replacement dog. Dog videos are being
watched, “how to choose a puppy” books are being read, earnest
discussions with dog owners about the pros and cons of various
breeds are taking place.
Sure, Tasha has some more good (and psychotic) years
ahead of her, but Laurel is looking forward to, um—how should
we put this without getting ourselves in potential legal
difficulties—owning a less, ah, protective dog. The truth is that
Tasha sometimes shows her love for visitors by not wanting
them to leave.
Turn around quickly to go out the door, and Rin-Tin-Tin
on steroids might make you think twice about that
ill-considered decision. “Woof! Snarl!
GRRRR!” A nice
sweet Yellow Lab can seem like a pretty good idea at such
moments...
• Celeste has
left that “major department store in Dallas”, a.k.a.
Neiman-Marcus, and has crossed to the other
side of the marketing
fence: she works for Oliver People’s, purveyors of designer eyewear to
the rich and famous, or anyone willing to fork over a few
hundred bucks (at least) for a pair of glasses. Now she sells to Neiman-Marcus
stores across the country, rather than buying for them. Celeste works in Los
Angeles now, a city that seems to suit her much better than
Dallas. Having
driven with her on the freeways of LA, we can tell you that
she was born to cross six lanes of heavy traffic at 65 miles
an hour, without using a turn signal, moving all the way from
the left lane to the right to make an exit in less than two
seconds (which seemed like an eternity, as our lives passed in
front of us...).
• We were in Los
Angeles to go to Disneyland, which Laurel had never
visited. Her
inner child blossomed!
She wore Minnie Mouse ears the whole time, even in nice
restaurants, jumped up and danced gleefully with Pluto during
the Main Street parade, and wanted to go on the Indiana Jones
ride over and
over. Well,
at least the last part is true. We went with Carol
Ann, Brian’s sister, and her husband, Bob. A nice bonding
experience, aside from the fact that
they got to stay in a top-floor suite at the Disneyland Hotel
and we were several long blocks away in
one of the first Best Westerns ever built (Cortez stayed
there, we were told, when he discovered California). We actually could see
the lights beaming from their luxurious accommodation as we
stared out over a bleak parking lot, filled with out-of-duty
tour buses.
• Brian earned
his brown belt in traditional Shotokan karate. He can kick butt
now! (as long as
it belongs to a little kid, who doesn’t have any martial arts
training).
• And he is still
writing...Life is
Fair is, hopefully, on its way to being published in
India, and background research on a book about Plotinus is
almost complete.
Coming soon:Ageless Answers to Life’s
Most Important Questions.
Out
of room! Love and
warm greetings, Laurel and Brian
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