January
- I got off to an early start on my Christmas letter this year--January
3rd, to be exact. Memories of last year’s letter are still haunting
me--it was a six-week search for my artistic soul, punctuated by Dawn’s
stinging critique: “There isn’t anything about me!”
Y2K
did not get off to an auspicious start. We flew to Pennsylvania the day
after Christmas; within two days everyone was in bed with a really
nasty flu bug. We slept right through the Millennium celebrations. I
hope all of those people protesting that 2001 is the real millennium
will put on their own celebrations, but somehow I doubt it: People who
let a little reason stand between themselves and a good party, probably
didn’t want to party in the first place. Besides, half the world’s
population goes by different calendars, on which 1/1/00 didn’t mean
squat, but they still participated.
February
- For Dawn’s birthday, she got a whole new front-end for her truck.
Unfortunately, the old front-end was removed by someone making a left
turn into her. Except for a nasty bruise and a sore back, she was fine,
but the truck went to the shop for about a month. The other driver was a
sixteen-year-old boy who got his license three months ago. Dawn called
a tow truck; he called his mom.
March
- In the last Christmas letter, I mentioned I was going to quit my job
and go independent. Less than a week after I wrote that, another project
came up at my company that was local and where I would have some
management responsibilities, so I decided to stay. Big mistake. My boss
and I had a difference of style--I thought she should help and support
me, and she thought she should harass and insult me. After three weeks, I
accidentally quit. I didn’t intend to, I only intended to get some
support from her boss, but he thought he should harass and insult me as
well. Fortunately, Dawn and I had saved up enough money so that I didn’t
have to worry about being unemployed for a few weeks.
April - Dawn announced she was going to quit. Her boss has always been a yeller, but he never yelled at her. (And speaking from experience, you never yell at her.)
Well, he yelled at her. So now Dawn and I were both imminently
unemployed, and the savings were looking pretty slim. Still, there was
enough there to sponsor a few weeks of carefree abandonment, so I
proposed a road trip--we take the convertible, in the middle of spring,
and head out to see the country. It’d be like “Travels with Charley,”
except with showers and stuff. “Can’t,” was all Dawn said, “school.”
We
did go visit my uncle in Lawrenceville, just outside of Atlanta,
however. At 74, he still has the most important thing a man can
have--his hair. (He may still have his wits, but nobody was really sure
about those to begin with.) Still, since my mother got her hearing aids,
he’s the only family member I can torment with impunity. (I was only
distracted briefly when I crushed a seven-year-old child at a game of
checkers one night.) In response to his bragging about Lawrenceville, a
town straight out of the '50s, I made my aunt a T-shirt that said
“Lawrenceville sucks!”
The
most memorable moment was when we wandered into a church (it was the
only thing open on Sunday) and he pretended to be blind, suddenly
exclaimed he could see again, and yelled a few “Hallelujahs” before we
were dragged out. He claimed he didn’t realize it was a Presbyterian
church, that they should have marked the church more prominently, and he
was considering suing them. This apparently distracted them from
noticing the collection plate shoved under his shirt.
May
- My bid for unemployment made a bizarre U-turn. The person who was
supposed to replace me, quit. Since I didn’t have any jobs lined up at
the time, I agreed to extend my last day for two weeks. They found
someone else but he couldn’t start until the end of April, so again I
agreed to stay. The client was grateful, but I really annoyed the
payroll department. By that point I had a couple of good offers in the
pipeline, so I wasn’t going to extend again. Then, quite unexpectedly,
the client quit! That is, the guy who was leading the client team gave
notice. His boss approached me and asked if I wanted the position.
This
put me in quite a quandary because, for the six years I’d been
consulting, the one thing you never did was go over to the client. I
struggled with this for a week, telling myself that I hadn’t approached
them, that I was going to quit anyway, etc. Dawn, ever the pragmatist,
kept saying “It’s close to home, you don’t have to travel, it’s more
money, you like the people, don’t be a schmo, etc.” My last day was on a
Wednesday; I started my new job on Thursday--except I was sitting in
the same chair at the same office on the same team doing the same thing.
The only way I could think to demarcate the “old” Gregg from the “new”
Gregg was to shave off my beard. Nobody noticed.
Dawn
finished school, marking an end to her 12-year bachelor's degree. She'd
been taking five classes while working full-time in a feverish attempt
to graduate before her school lost its accreditation. She has been
augmenting these classes with College-Level Exam Program (CLEP) tests,
which her school accepts in lieu of actual courses. With almost no
studying, she achieved passing scores in business management and social
sciences. Unfortunately, she missed the history test by 2 points, so she
has enrolled in a televideo course with the community college.
Dawn,
having had one interview, apparently ran out of steam and stopped her
job search. I’ve been trying to encourage her to go independent, and
this seemed like an ideal opportunity. She just fixed me with that
look--you know, clenched eyes, drawn mouth, furrowed brow--and said,
“You have zero job security and zero benefits, and you want me to do the
same?” “Yeah,” I said, then ran from the room before her fire-breath
could overtake me.
I
also visited my aunt and uncle in their new house. I still can't
believe they gave a 74-year-old man a 30-year mortgage. He now lives in
Carl, a place straight out of the '30s, and now agrees that
Lawrenceville really did suck.
June
- Dawn had a very important paper due in her history class, which was
her final class required to receive her bachelor's degree. Now I won't
say she procrastinated--in fact, she informed me in April that I would
be writing this paper--but after a two-month standoff, I finally sat
down to write the paper two days before it was due. The task was to
compare and contrast viewpoints from two different history books, but
instead I decided to do what I do best--lambaste both books. This was
not dissimilar to the last paper Dawn asked me to write--a review of a
musical performance conducted by one of her teachers. I think he was in
tears by the end of the review. I don't know what grade this paper will
get, but Dawn has already cancelled her graduation plans.
July
- We lost our iguana this month. Literally. We reconstructed the crime
scene but all we could find was one of the window screens was loose,
where we assume she made her egress. We combed the neighborhood, put up
fliers, looked high and low (mostly high), but to no avail. It was a
quiet separation, because we are sure she will return.
Meanwhile,
we had a roof guy, a gutter guy, a spa guy, a door guy, and a plaster
guy all come out during the same month. Four years ago, we talked about
replacing the roof, two years ago we needed to replace the roof, last
year we resolved to replace the roof, and this year we finally had
enough money saved to either go to Europe, or replace the roof. Luckily,
there was a new shingle on the market that Dawn liked which was much
cheaper than the faux wood shake we were going to use, so we had some
extra money to play around the house. I found a used hot tub in the
Penny Saver for under a grand (the cheapest new spa I'd found was
$5,200!) which we bought immediately--even though we didn't have any
place to put it at the time. (Let's just say that Dawn had to park her
truck on the street for a month, and I was limping for about three
days.) After the roof was done, it took the spa guy just three days to
accomplish what I'd been waiting four and a half years for.
If
you'll remember from Christmas '97, we bought a new set of sliding
french doors to replace the crumbling french doors leading out to the
spa, but decided not to install them until after the spa was in--which
was before I could conceive it would take me four and a half years to
get my hot tub. Also, if you'll remember from Christmas '98, we had
replaced two doors with windows, but decided not to repair the plaster
until the spa was in--which was also before I could conceive it would
take me four and a half years to get my hot tub. Hence, the door guy and
the plaster guy. The plaster guy ran the stucco right around the rim of
the hot tub so you would never know it was just installed. (At least
not until I whipped out the photo album.)
August
-- Ever paint french doors? We painted two sets. The second set was an
accident--we decided to replace one small piece of molding around the
doors to the back deck, not realizing that to match the paint to the
door, we'd have to repaint the entire door.
We
also fixed the deck. When we bought the house, there was a huge pine
tree growing through the deck, which was really cool. Unfortunately, the
tree died and we had to cut it down, leaving a huge hole in our deck,
which was not cool. After years of covering it up with boards, planters,
chairs, and once just leaving it open with a roll of toilet paper
beside it (that did *not* go over well), we finally replaced the boards.
Which, of course, meant we had to paint the new boards, which meant we
had to paint the rest of the deck to match, which meant that all the
boards warped before we could nail them down. So with chisels, clamps,
hammers, and some hefty brawn provided by yours truly, we straigtened
the boards and screwed them in place. Let me tell you, Dawn's pretty
scary with an electric screwdriver. I have the pictures to prove it.
We
also had to paint the new deck around the spa, plus build some lattice
to go around the bottom of the deck. Ever paint lattice? It's less fun
than painting french doors. We got to try out our new table saw that we
bought at a garage sale, which worked pretty well until we hit a staple
in the lattice and it shot a glob of molten steel at warp 6 towards me.
Dawn had to finish the job by herself; I was cowering in the corner.
We
laid bricks along the entire west side of the house, which was also an
accident. One of Dawn's co-workers announced he'd taken down a brick
wall and was trying to get rid of 600 used bricks. (After Dawn had
agreed to take them, he decided to charge us, but that's another story.)
It took three trips, four weekends, and over 1,000 bricks to cover the
area, but at least now, instead of completely neglecting the side of the
house we never see, now we have to sweep it once a week.
And
then we were done. We'd spent over $17,000. Dawn got a new roof, a new
set of doors, a new deck, a ventilating skylight, four new dining room
chairs, the back deck was fixed, the stucco was repaired, the side yard
was paved, and the carpets were cleaned. But the only important thing to
note was I GOT MY $%*^&(! HOT TUB!!!
September
-- Amazingly, Dawn did graduate. But more amazingly, her mom came to
visit, exactly as she'd promised twelve years ago when Dawn started
taking classes. It was unfortunate that she couldn't meet Alex. We also
had a heat spell that week, so I think Dawn's mom (who we were always
bragging to about the weather and our iguana) was starting to wonder
about us. We took her to the Huntington Library, the South Bay Botanical
Gardens, the beach, and Disneyland. She was quite impressed with our
freeway system.
Two
days after Dawn's mom left, we got a call from our neighbor two doors
down. He was having some trees cut back, and the workers found an iguana
in the jacaranda--so they moved it to the magnolia tree and continued
working. Fortunately they told him about it when he came home, and were
able to go back up and capture her again. By the time I got there, Alex
was in a pretty foul mood, but she quickly calmed down. The vet gave her
a clean bill of health and so, after her two and half month adventure,
she is back home, safe and sound. (Yes, we do know how lucky we are,
thankyouverymuch.) We immediately called Dawn's mom to tell her the good
news, but she didn't sound very excited. She suggested we get
professional help.
October
-- Several years ago, I'd salvaged an old 386 computer and given it to
my uncle, assuming he’d never become computer literate enough to use it.
He promptly started barraging us with e-mails. Unfortunately, Irving
(as he named the computer) started crashing on a regular basis. When I
visited, Irving behaved just fine, which led to speculation about
Munchausen by proxy being applied to a computer, but in the end we
decided to throw out the baby with the bath water, and start again.
Rather than send him a new computer, I sent him my old computer, and got
a new one. (Of course he doesn't know this yet…)
I also got DSL with the new computer. Which is to say, for six weeks the phone company told me
I had DSL, but the computer just sat there like a stump. The first time
I called the help desk I was put on hold for thirty minutes, then the
tech told me to turn the computer off for five minutes and try again, and then hung up on me. When
I called back, I got a much more helpful tech who asked me to verify
the green light was on, and then transferred me to the advanced support
department. In the first two days I spent 15 hours on the phone, 13 on
hold, before Dawn announced she was taking over. I don’t know what she
said to them, but she had a tech at our house that day! Unfortunately,
they neglected to tell us they would have a tech out that day, so we
found a note on our door that since we weren’t home, the problem must be
resolved and he was going to close the case. After two more visits and
six weeks of constant phone calls, Dawn finally got it working. This was
quite a feat—of the other two people we know of that got DSL, one took
three months and the other took six months! This explains the service
manager’s comment, when Dawn asked about a refund, that he couldn’t do
that because we “should have expected it to take two months to get it
working.”
November
- We went to New Orleans for Dawn's brother's wedding. We got the
invitation in June, then didn't hear from them again until we arrived.
He recommended a travel agent so I called her and, once I confirmed that
she didn't know what she was talking about, I went on-line and
researched the airlines, hotels, restaurants, car rentals, and city info
on my own. Then, just to be polite, I had her make the reservations.
Imagine my surprise, then, to find later (on my credit card bill) that
she had charged me $40 for the "service"!
It
rained all week, the wedding was a disaster, and because I was with
three women we spent half our time shopping, but one thing salvaged this
vacation: Preservation Hall. This place looked like a burned-out bomb
shelter, but the music was just amazing, and at $5 for all the jazz and
blues you could listen to, it couldn’t be beat. Dawn and I closed it
down our last night, even snagging a couple of seats on the two small
benches in the otherwise SRO crowd.
December
– My great-uncle passed away. He was 90 years old and still had full
use of his faculties, but he'd survived his wife by 12 years, had no
children, and was a very lonely man. I keep thinking that there's
nothing that prevents me from ending up in the same situation. But I'm
still young; I'll worry about it in 40 years, when it's too late to do
anything about it.
It
also got me to thinking about my family. My family has never been close
and, hopefully, never will be. (As George Burns said, happiness is a
loving, close-knit family in another city.) But to get them together
would be…disastrous. I think the government even keeps tabs on such
things. Still, the thought kept rolling in my head, what if they were
together but could get away from each other? Thus, I announced to Dawn
that I was going to take my family on a cruise.
When
she was revived, Dawn immediately nixed the idea on the grounds of
cost, logistics, and common sense. I argued that a 3-day cruise wasn’t
that expensive, and wasn’t that long. But, Dawn said, what about your
uncle who won’t fly? I countered that Miama wasn’t that far from Atlanta
and, both of us being quite ignorant of geography, she finally agreed.
Unfortunately, a quick trip to the on-line atlas showed Miami was about
14 hours from Atlanta. Dawn nixed the idea again.
Some
random musings at Yahoo! turned up a cruise that sailed out of South
Carolina twice a year, when it was repositioning itself between New York
and Miami. That was only a six-hour drive, so I was back in business.
The spring sailing was already sold out, but I was able to book five
cabins in October. I neglected to tell Dawn that it was a five-night
cruise, however. I’m hoping she won’t read this.