Historical February 1997 article. Dates, prices, services and contacts describe the source period; current availability has not been established.
Seasons Greetings! Oh, I know, ifs a little late for our annual holiday letter but it has been busy around here. Besides, I started writing this on December 17; doesn’t that count for something?
As years go, 1996 was a pretty uneventful one. Given some of our earlier years, that’s probably good.
Each time I write an end-of-year holiday letter to all of our friends I am reminded of that infamous holiday letter in the late 80’s in which I talked about cousin Danny going in for a sex-change operation. Oh it was true, but little did I realize that Danny hadn’t gotten around to telling his, I mean her, parents yet. His, her, mom and dad, Ruth and Glenn, were in a state of shock. Ruth could do nothing but sob for days and all Glenn could say was that he was “at least happy that Danny would have to shave off that damn beard!” Then in ’91 or ’92 the holiday letter causes some ripples when I announced that cousin John had been indicted for being part of a pyramid scheme in which he had bilked hundreds of Arizona retirees out of their life savings.
I was particularly eloquent, if I say so myself, in describing how the scheme worked: after joining by paying $100, each member was then responsible for getting eight others to join.
After that, each member received $1,000 per month for a year. Obviously I wasn’t nearly as eloquent in explaining that all earnings were funded by future new member fees which must eventually dry up.
I know this because cousin John sent me a letter from the prison in Tucson, thanking me for the 17 new members who had joined after reading my holiday letter.
This year saw Moxie and Boomer, our two standard poodles, age semigracefully. Moxie, like the rest of us, has become a bit more temperate in his old age. He’s 84 in dog years and I hope that I can run and jump as well as he does when I’m that age.
In fact, I wish I could do that now!
He spends most of his days on street patrol, lying inside the door and looking through the glass, barking at any stray dogs, cats, or leaves that dare come upon our lawn. Oh yeah, he eats a lot and listens to the radio during the day. Nice work if you can get it.
He particular likes “Talk Of The Nation” although he’s never gotten up the nerve to call in.
He almost did on a Science Friday show, I know, when the topic was computers, but only growled when they talked about RAM and ROM.
It seems his bark is bigger than his byte.
The youthful Boomer, on the other hand, continues to revel in her immaturity.
She thinks everyone who walks in the door is her best friend, is always “on” when company is around, and despite her promises not to take food from the table, she will always get away with what she can when you turn your back to her.
She definitely has a future in politics.
The first wife gets more charming and graceful as she ages.
She continues to put up with me and since I’m getting less charming and graceful maybe it all evens out.
The History Museum has contacted her about displaying her shoe collection, but she is resistant thus far. She’s hoping for a larger venue, maybe the Smithsonian in D.C. or the Fox Theater.
The wife, of course, says I overstate this fetish of hers.
All I can say to that is that no one has ever seen her wearing the same pair of shoes twice.
I rest my sole. Work is going fine for me if you can call it work. What I do, whatever it is, is fun, so it’s really not work.
On the other hand, I have to work hard at it so maybe it is work even though it’s fun.
This is a nice problem. Uncle Zeke is due for parole sometime in ’97 and we are all excited about that.
He wrote me that the first thing he wants to do is visit a tattoo parlor and cover up everything that refers to Donna, including his full-back drawing of the giant snake eating the helicopter over the Statue of Liberty.
This must be a painful process because he told me that he’s been surfing on the internet from his cell, hoping to meet and strike up a relationship with someone named Ladonna.
He wrote me, “If I can find this Ladonna babe it could be OK ’cause it would be easier to change them tattoos by adding a few letters then by covering ’em up.” The last I heard he had not been successful yet in finding a Ladonna. (If you know of one, you can have her contact him at Zeke@Tuc.State.Pris.) Short of finding a Ladonna, he told me, he would like to develop a semimeaningful relationship with someone named Ann. “That way,” he continued, “if it didn’t work out I could look for someone named Ruth Ann or MaryAnn or Beth Ann or Ann Marie or Anna or CatamarAnn.” You’ve got to give the Zekester credit, he’s always thinking ahead. Everyone is healthy and happy and that’s what is most important.
Now if we could just get a Dunkin’ Donuts at the corner of McPherson and Skinker, where the old Sinclair station was, all would be right in the world. Hey, if not a D,D., maybe a Flaco’s Tacos! Next year should be an especially fun one for our community.
The new sewer system in Forest Park will be finished, we’ll know where the next new MetroLink expansion will be going, well have a new mayor, and the first wife will continue to buy new shoes. Oh well, three out of four improvements ain’t bad.
Originally published in The Times of Skinker-DeBaliviere, February 1997.
Read this article in the original newspaper issue.
Original source: SD_Times1997_02.pdf, printed page(s) 8; PDF page(s) 8.
