Thursday, December 10, 2009

Doing the Christmas Letter like it's... 1999.

Okay, it only really works if you love Prince- the man formerly known as the symbol - that was also his guitar...

But I wasn't kidding when I said I've been mocking Christmas letters for 12 years... Here's the electronic holiday cheer from 1999.

The 1999 Update

All the news you’ve been dying to hear…and then some. Did you realize you can clean your toilet with Alka -Seltzer tablets? Just twenty minutes, then brush and flush! And all this time you’ve been drinking them?

Oh yes, it was early in the month of January, when Mr. S decided, “That’s it! Come hell or high water, I am leaving this company and moving on!” The next week, our fair city of Rindge, NH incited a flood plain ordinance, and Mr. S jumped in the car and drove to Colorado. Linda has always loved the mountains. But first, he had a vasectomy. Linda has always hated those little pills that slip down the drain. Okay, so the timing was poor, but what else was the guy good for during the healing process? ”Here’s some ice packs and some cash. Call me when you get there. Love you, Hon.” Meanwhile, back in the boonies, the For Sale sign blew down and the snowbirds flew the coop. Hello martinis.

February gave us a new opportunity. Mr. S returned, only to relocate to a swanky bachelor pad abutting the New Jersey faction of the Mexican Consulate. Are they all Landscapers? And do they really only listen to Mariachi bands? March sent a teaser of a buyer, who disappeared as mysteriously as a New Hampshire promise of Spring.

Linda shops the Internet for houses in PA, although we have no idea where we will be living. Faith, my friends. Pure, unadulterated, blind old faith. Mr. S also refers to this as, a silly waste of time and energy.

Call it what you will, by April, I had found a realtor, narrowed the search to less than 25 available houses, bought a shiny black Durango and… several more bottles of Rain…presently unavailable via Internet.

So, May sent us packing to see the Amish for ourselves. We ran through realtors like sand through an hourglass. It just wasn’t quite as pretty, and certainly not as quiet.

You know, they’ll give anybody one of those licenses, won’t they?

Buyer’s market? Seller’s price? Grab it when you see it. The inventory is low. You want a 4 bedroom? Where? For how much? HAHHAHAHAHAHAHheeeehhhhhheeteehee…hooooooohoooohoo, you said, puhahhahahahahahah…….wait a minute, let me get my friend……Hey, Joe,! you gotta hear this one! HAHAHAHHA HHEHEH HEHEEHHH ooohhhhhh… behave!

Okay, so maybe we were being a little unrealistic, but doesn’t that faith thing work everywhere? I left Mr. S with the video camera and a short list of house requirements.

1. size, as per our agreement

2. location, as per our agreement

3. price, as per our agreement

4. forget the agreement, find me a damn house.

And, so he did. My hero. A lovely large home in a lovely large neighborhood in a lovely quaint town lovingly located 2 ½ hours from NYC, 40 minutes from Philly, 3 hours from Baltimore and 1 ½ hours from Atlantic City……yes, you guessed it, lovely……..SCHWENKSVILLE, PA.

The town my husband has always dreamed of. I guess I should also mention, it is 40 miles from a Nuclear Power Plant, 10 miles from The Graterford Correctional Facility, and merely 16.3 miles from King of Prussia, home of the largest Mall on the East Coast of the USA. Wanna visit?

As a grown woman with a healthy sense of humor, I find it humbling to reside in such a historic borough. As I drive down Schwenksville’s Main Street, I can wave hello to Mr. George Schwenk, the great grandson of our founding father. I laugh to see the little Schwenk children playing on their bright red Schwenk swing sets, riding their speedy Schwenk Schwinns down sloping Schwenk sidewalks. I feel joy in my heart when I see Schwenk families skipping off to the local Schwenkfelder Church to study and learn Schwenkalistic rituals. Ah, it does one good to breathe deep, look around and Thank God you don’t live in a town named Intercourse, or Blue Ball. Can you imagine? Just a big old mail order hoohah.

So, yes, it has been one heck of a year. We are sad to see it go. Girl P. learned to walk, and now that she’s talking, will announce quite loudly to everyone in the grocery store check out line, that she has just gone ‘’Poo.” Isn’t she special?

Boy C. is a Tang Soo Do martial artist kindergarten pokemon trader dude with a penchant for disguise….and really bizarre crafts, that usually involve lots of glue, large strips of tape and toilet paper rolls. Don’t ask.

Linda plays all day long and sleeps in late every single day of the week. But, when she’s not enjoying the fun of laundry and household tasks, she can be found on the internet, looking for her future. And Mr. S, according to his son, is the King of Prussia, with a branch of his own and an office with a view. What more could a man ask for?


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