It was right after dinner and there I was, lounging in my Lazy Boy while flossing from between my teeth several stubborn chunks of pot roast. I was not only burdened by tough meat but also by the tough mental preparation for this so-called "Christmas letter.” What would I write about this year? And could I strike a civil chord in this twisted, Trumped up world? All I knew was that I needed to deliver a sweeter note with a bit more fluff and a lot less bite. My tone in recent years, or so I’ve been told, has grown harsh. Sweetness – aye, that’s the ticket.
Thus en-flossed, I glanced across the room at Sue and saw that she, too, was sawing through her molars in her own flossing frenzy. We had become an inadvertent flossing duo, performing with our strings like two aligned violinists with their bows. This image, I proclaim, is what 40 years of marriage does to you. I do the yin, she does the yang. I floss with you, you floss with me. Yes, it was 40 years ago in October that Sue and I began our journey on the same dental plan. It’s the little things, like unplanned, synchronized flossing, that make marriage so darn sweet.
Omar the Dog always lies near in case a chunk of dislodged meat gets jettisoned through the air. Draw close and you notice he could stand some flossing himself. Dawg Breath in 2017 could have filled the freezer with several species of game -- possums, chipmunks, squirrels, skunks, even garter snakes -- all should have thought twice before prowling our back yard. After Hound plays tear-the-head-off-skunk-at-two-o'clock-in-the-morning, douse and scrub Hound in a mixture of one quart hydrogen peroxide, one teaspoon baking soda, and two squirts Dawn detergent.
Elizabeth has settled in Pasadena where her dental health has greatly improved. She feels positively regal with her new array of shiny crowns. Elizabeth tutors, teaches, and counsels teens at the Mayvin Learning Center. And she writes. She's had several poems published in esteemed literary journals which makes her noticed if not especially wealthy. And she longs for the day when Omar the Dog can join her in California.
Brendan and Jodi have enjoyed good dental health. No cavities to report. Brendan gives his clients at Fifth Third Bank in Grand Rapids recommendations for enrichment while Jodi supervises research grants at Spectrum Medical Center. They have refurbished their kitchen and can now create culinary masterpieces in their state-of-the-art culinary space. Rejoice if you're ever invited over for a meal. Believe me, you won’t need to floss.
Sue had a molar yanked out a few weeks back. This was the same molar I had yanked after biting down violently on a chicken bone. Amazing coincidence! And an orthopedic sawbones replaced her left knee in April. This has proven wildly successful. She was able to climb dozens of Colorado mountains in the fall without any problem... riding in the car, that is. But Sue’s year was not all extraction-of-body-parts. Sue has spent hundreds of hours curled around her sewing machine, crafting magnificent quilts... which she then... wait for it… GIVES AWAY.
I sometimes wear a mouth guard to bed. It’s supposed to prevent my teeth from grinding. And let me say, there's been a whole lot of grinding going on. Day in and day out, there I sit, poised in my Lazy Boy, iPhone in hand, laptop open, the TV loud and tuned to MSNBC. I’m ready -- listening, watching, waiting, oh boy here it comes... BREAKING NEWS FROM HELL! The slings and arrows of our national nightmare unfold before our eyes. I can’t not watch and I can’t not feel. What is a fattened, semi-retired, reclusive American to do? That is the question. To muster courage and rise up against a Trump of troubles? Or take to the bed to find sweet dreams, and perchance let molars grind down into nubs.
But I do get away: I steer the open adoption program at Catholic Human Services. I tried fly fishing in the Rockies. And I got my third lifetime hole-in-one in July. Yes, it was a spectacular day, my friends. A gentle breeze aided my sweetly struck 7-iron as the ball arced and drew ever so sweetly over…
Anyway. There's left-over pot roast for dinner tonight. Omar the Dog will be vigilant and he might get lucky, might snag a sweet projectile out of the air. We sure hope, among other things, that in 2018 you will be as lucky. And we wish you healthy, un-grinded teeth. Together, after all these years, ours are falling out one by one.
Merry Christmas!
