Five Things I Learned in 2020

A year ago today none of us could have imagined what 2020 would bring, how it would dramatically alter our lives, how it would change us. I entered 2020 with a list of goals, some of them quite ambitious. By the end of March they were in tatters. The stock market had cratered over 30% in four weeks, all face to face appointments had been cancelled, and Fauci and Birx had become must-see TV. There was a twilight zone quality to it all. When people started hoarding toilet paper, that’s when I knew that the world was entering something newly irrational. Of course, conducting a Presidential election in the midst of a pandemic is a recipe for a special kind of madness, and although the election is over, its most rabid partisans are still quite mad. A sizable number of them still insist that Donald Trump won the election and that some eleventh hour miracle will overturn its results. After witnessing the preceding twelve months, it’s difficult to dismiss any contingency, no matter how bizarre. Among many other things, 2020 has taught me never to underestimate the stupidity of large groups of people energized by politics.

So, what else has this year taught me? Life is, after all, a school. Every day is a lesson if we are paying attention. 2020 in this regard has been a master class in damage control and crisis management. If nothing else 2020 has revealed the quality of all of our plan B’s. With the arrival of lockdowns and quarantines we have discovered the things that really matter to each of us, and what things we can actually do without. Here are just a few from my perspective.

1. Being forced to spend so much time at home, I have become much more thankful for my home. It’s not a mansion. It makes no “statement” to anyone when they see it. But it’s ours, every room filled with memories, every piece of furniture tells our story. If I were to lose my sight, I could make my away around inside these walls from memory. That is a comfort to me.

2. 2020 has made me much more thankful for and solicitous of my neighbors. We have the good fortune of living in a neighborhood filled with good people. When you are asked to hunker down at home, you begin to wonder how those neighbors are getting along. Early on, a college Freshman across the culdesac came down with COVID. Her mother is a nurse and works with COVID patients. Another neighbor across the street lost his wife to a non-COVID-related illness. Then, our next door neighbor caught COVID at her gym. Suddenly, the pandemic became personal. There wasn’t much we could do, but we did whatever small favors that came to mind, a sort of circling of the wagons around our little corner of the world. The experience has made me thankful that I live in this place with these people.

3. I have discovered that I have a love/hate relationship with Zoom, Facetime, and Marco Polo. On the one hand, they have been a Godsend for not only my business, but also for my personal life. In the early days of the pandemic, having the ability to get all four of my children on a computer screen for a conversation felt like a miracle. Seeing their faces was like medicine. It was proof to me that they were well. It made me feel at least the illusion that we were together. The hate part is the fact that having to use this technology only serves to remind me of its limitations. You can’t hug a digital image. You can’t read the eyes of a reflection. My dependence on Zoom reminds me that my life has changed, and until the day when Zoom is no longer needed, that’s a reminder of my limits.

4. Maine is not a luxury. Maine is an absolute necessity for my well being. The seven weeks I spent there this year served as the closing argument in the great Rent vs. Buy trial that has been argued in my mind over the past thirty years. Being in Maine brings me more happiness and joy than being practically anywhere else in the world. It calms me. It wakes me up. It is the great recalibration. I arrive there tied up in knots, often overwhelmed by the complexities of life. I leave there a new man, calmer, happier, and counting the days until my return. I will buy a place. There will be no turning back.

5. I married the right woman. After nearly 37 years together, one might think that being quarantined together would bring out the worst in us. Actually, it has taught me that there isn’t another human being on the planet who I would rather be locked down with. Pam has been one of the few people I know who has thrived during 2020. She has gotten even more creative, more inventive than she has ever been. It’s almost as if she’s gotten smarter as all the world around her has gotten dumber. It’s hard to explain. It’s something you have to experience, but trust me, she has been killing it.

I Think We Pulled it Off

Family Fest 2020, the first and hopefully last virtual Christmas celebration in Dunnevant family history, is in the books and by all accounts was a raging success. Due to my wife’s initiative and creativity, we were able to administer a virtual rebuke to the pandemic, a digital middle finger of defiance, if you will. A few highlights:

There were a total of 63 videos uploaded to the Marco Polo app and they covered the gambit...

- Pam read The Night Before Christmas from a gorgeous book given to Kaitlin and Patrick 31 years ago.

- Russ read the Christmas story in Luke 2 from the King James Version of the Bible, the only translation that sounds right to us.

- Jon read the Longfellow poem, I Heard The Bells On Christmas Day.

Thus ended the highbrow part of the program.

There was music. Lots of music...

Kaitlin sang an advent song, Sarah sang Santa Claus is Coming to Town, Patrick performed the British version of In The Bleak Midwinter. I played Silent Night. There was a piano recital by Ezra. My brother sang several original compositions. Cameron and Ava gave us a bizarre version of The Twelve Days of Christmas which featured singing Guinea Pigs. My sister Linda played the piano while Bill showed us his train display racing entirely too fast through the idyllic village that looks an awful lot like Bedford Falls.

There were several cooking segments. My sister Paula gave us a step by step tutorial of how she makes her ridiculous cinnamon rolls. Baby teased us with pumpkin bread. Becky showed us a Scottish dessert she had made which featured raspberries and pastry. Sarah showed us the frame of her gingerbread house, complete with stained glass windows made out of melted Jolly Ranchers.

We all got to see Ezra and Evelyn come down the stairs on Christmas Morning. We got to see Lauren and Cat sipping their Starbucks in short sleeves from sunny California. I detected just a touch of superiority in their expressions, what little I could make out of them, what with all the blazing sunshine!

We were all treated to my daughter Kaitlin, wrapping up her 16th consecutive Least Valuable Vacationer award, as she was caught sprawled out on the living room floor while Patrick, Sarah and Pam slaved away in the kitchen making breakfast.

Linda and Bill offered a fascinating video of what it looks like to open and close their 100 year old table, starting with it in round four seater form, expanding all the way to its full seven leaves, a massive table that seats 14 people.

There were videos of our three dogs. There was one of Linda’s new cat, Stella...as well as the aforementioned Guinean pigs.

There was Bernadette and Isaac, their faces giving away the fear and thrill of being three months away from their wedding day.

There was a video tour of Pam’s Snow Village...the sanitized version, a deliberate refutation of my earlier Tempest edition which told the grittier tale of the darker side of the town.

Of course, there was also a play. No Dunnevant Holiday celebration can be had without one. This one featured Kaitlin in a riveting performance as Nanny, confronted with Marco Polo technology.

So, if you are thinking that this sounds dreadfully boring, I can certainly understand. Like many family endeavors, it’s charms can only be fully appreciated by insiders. But to us, this project helped save Christmas. Although we were far apart, this brought us together. It took some work, but it was worth every minute. 

I hope that Nanny and Papa, looking down on us from heaven, are proud of us.

Christmas Cards

I just heard over the police scanner that a midget fortune teller just robbed a bank

The dispatcher said there was a small medium at large...

What’s the difference between a Harley and a Hoover?

The position of the dirt bag...

What's the definition of Baroque?

That’s when you run out of Monet...

You would think that my elegant and festive surroundings this morning would inspire better writing. But, you would be wrong. Instead, the pictures above serve as evidence of how busy Pam and I have been over the past couple of days. Patrick and Sarah and their gorgeous pup, Frisco, are on the road from Nashville today. Tomorrow, Kaitlin and Jon and their lovable doofus, Jackson, will hit the interstates toward Short Pump. This morning, I am taking Lucy over to Petsmart for her Christmas grooming appointment. She insists on looking her absolute best for guests. Just in case anyone wonders if we are the sort of family who lavishes Christmas gifts on their dogs...

What a ridiculous question. Of course!! Each of them have their own stocking. What are we supposed to do? All three of them have been so very good this year!

I love what Pam does with the Christmas cards we get every year. Normally, this is a metal decoration that spells out the word welcome. She takes each card and slides it into the iron work. I don’t know about you all, but this year these cards have meant more somehow. We have looked at each one more closely. These are all from people we love, many of whom we haven’t seen in person for quite a while thanks to this insufferable pandemic. There are family photographs from recent weddings. We smile when we see their faces. When Pam opens these cards its always the same reaction, “Aww, what a beautiful family! I love this so much!!” She then hands them to me and I smile too. We are thankful for each family represented on our wall, and more grateful this year than ever for receiving each and every one.

The Great Molasses Shortage or, How I Saved Christmas

Here we go. Monday, December the 21st, which means it’s almost go-time. Time to put up or shut up. The house is starting to take shape for the arrival of four kids and three dogs. It has been thoroughly vacuumed and dusted. The beds have been made. Today, feeling magnanimous, I have volunteered to clean all three bathrooms. Why? Well, so I don’t look so totally worthless in comparison to my wife who has been flying around here like a whirling dervish for weeks. Today, I’m thinking she will be baking all day or something equally labor intensive. In between pulling delectable things out of the oven, she will be fretting over the details of her idea of a virtual music concert/talent show called Family Fest 2020 to be held the day after Christmas. Once she gets that squared away, she will turn her anxious thoughts to how best to orchestrate a family photo session with a professional photographer—a special gift given to us by sweet Bernadette—for some time while the kids are home. Color schemes and shoot locations don’t just decide themselves, you know! Of course then there’s the planning of Christmas dinner and all the other menus for the week. So yeah, the least I can do is scrub a few toilets.

Actually, my role here is more important than it would appear to the casual observer. I am usually the one who volunteers to take each of the three dogs outside for their morning, afternoon and evening constitutionals. Consequently, each of the pups knows who loves them the most. It’s Pops! I am also the one organizing the betting pool for the week. Question: Which dog will be the first to throw up? On what surface? Currently odds stand as follows: Frisco 6:1–carpet upstairs.  Jackson 10:1–hardwood floor dining room. Lucy 25:1 tile floor our bathroom. Of course, separate pools have to be set for peeing and pooping, as well as over and under for total accidents, and a special long shot bet on probability of no accidents at all...currently at 250:1. 

I have one more indispensable job around here...Pam’s designated shopper. Just last night, my skills were brought to bear on a tragedy that had the potential to ruin Christmas entirely. Pam had run out of...Grandma’s Molasses...and what was worse was the fact that our Publix was out of stock!! I don’t have to tell you how tragic this would have been. No Grandma’s Molasses means no Molasses Krinckles, no gingerbread whoopie-pies, no gingerbread cake. In other words...no love. So, I girded my loins and hit the road around 5:00 am last night. First Stop...Food Lion. I quickly found the baking goods aisle, scanned the shelves for the distinctive burnt yellow wrapper. Instead, I found a big empty space on the shelf where molasses should have been. Next stop...the John Rolfe Publix, where I found an equally empty shelf. But, out of the corner of my eye I spied a rather rotund and completely bored out of his mind stock boy in his pea green vest looking like he would rather be literally anywhere in the universe other than the baking goods aisle. I approached him with this disarming line, “Look pal...this is the third store I have been to looking for molasses. How about you check out the back room to see if you have any in reserve.” then I winked at him slyly and offered the hook, “I’ll make it worth your while...” He shuffled to the back room with even more listless disregard. Ten minutes later he emerged, walking towards me with an even slower shuffle, small cardboard box in hand, looks at me with complete and total nonchalance and muttered, “you’re in luck.” I grabbed the box...”Give me that!” I snapped. There in the bottom of the box were the last two bottles of Grandma’s Molasses in all of Short Pump...

Christmas was saved! 

But before I can turn my attention solely to all things Christmas, I must clean up the last remaining details at work. Today I have a few hours left at the office, then I’m done for the year. After I wrap up the business year I will head out to get Pam’s stocking stuffers. Something tells me I will go overboard.

If Mary and Joseph Lived in Short Pump...

Yesterday, Pam made another delicious batch of Gingerbread Whoopie Pies with orange zest cream cheese filling, while I attempted to wrap the presents we had bought for our four kids. A couple of thoughts...

First, those whoopie pies? Yes, they are as delicious as they sound. Just the smell of them wafting around the house makes me gain weight. Secondly....

#spoiledrotten

The truly bad thing about this is the fact that I didn’t even finish the job. There are even more presents that I couldn’t wrap because of some missing piece. It’s ridiculous really...but neither of us can help ourselves. And we don’t even have grandchildren!!

So, when Pam finally finished baking the whoopie pies, she announced that we were going to head out for a Christmas cheer-spreading drive to deliver this first batch to four different couples that we know and love. An hour and a half later it was done. It was great fun. Pro-Tip...if you want to get into the Christmas Spirit, there is no better way than hand delivering fresh out of the oven whoopie pies to the unsuspecting.

And now for a couple Christmas themed cartoons that I love...

....if Mary and Joseph lived in Short Pump.

Marco Polo-ing With Mom

My Mother was a selectively impatient person. In some things, like waiting for her youngest son to repent of his many sins, her patience had virtually no limits. But in other, less eternal pursuits, her exasperation point was on a hair trigger. Here is just a short list of the topics about which she had zero patience:

* bad preaching

* Baptist churches that didn’t devote at least half of their budget to Lottie Moon

* TV preachers

* religious music that had a beat

* teenagers who slept past 7:00 am on Saturdays

* cell phones

* computers

* the internet

The last three items on this list arrived on the scene when my Mother was an older woman, and far beyond the age where she might have suffered fools with a more generous spirit. Whenever Mom would use a cell phone or sit at a computer, she could often be heard muttering, what for her, was a string of epithets...

“This John Brown, devilish thing...I declare honestly, Ima go down to that Verizon store and mop up the floor with that salesman..PHOOEY!!!”

So, as we prepare to institute the very first Marco Polo Christmas music concert in Dunnevant Family history, I can’t help trying to imagine what it would be like trying to teach Mom how to use the app....

Pam: Hey, Nanny! I have some great news. Even though we cant be together for Christmas this year because of C, there’s a way we can all be together remotely. It’s called Marco Polo, and I’m going to teach you how to use it and don’t worry, its super easy.

Mom: If you think some John Brown interweb scheme is going to replace having all of you in my house, then you’ve got another think coming!

Doug: Now Mom, we’ve already discussed this. There’s no way we can do that this year. You and dad are part of the high risk population and we don’t want...

Mom: I serve the Lord of heaven who owns the cattle on a thousand hills and...

Pam: Yes, yes Nanny. We know all about the cattle. But this is different. We just can’t cram 25 people into your tiny little house in the middle of a pandemic.

Mom: So instead, we’re gonna get on the interwebs—which as all of you know is nothing less than the Anti-Christ—and play Marco Polo?!

Doug: No, Mom. Marco Polo is this cool new app that allows people to send texts to each other in video form instead of having to type out messages. We know how much you hate sending texts from your cell phone since your fingers can’t type well because the keys are too small.

Mom: The only thing I hate more than that is having to learn some new fangled app two days before Christmas!!

Pam: This app is different, Nanny. 

Mom: I’m sure it is. And how much does it cost?? Why, if all of you would have taken the money you spent on this Magellan app and given it to Lottie Moon, the world would be a better place.

Pam: Nanny, its Marco Polo, not Magellan...AND its free!

Mom: Nothing is free, dear.

Pam: Never mind all that, Nanny. When I was over to see you the other day, remember I told you that I had installed an app on your computer? It was Marco Polo. So all you have to do is click on it. The icon looks like a beach ball...

Mom: Wait one confounded minute...a beach ball, you say? What in the Sam Hill does a beach ball have to do with this Ponce de Leon thing?

Doug: Just find the beach ball and click on it, Ma.

Mom: Well, I found the silly beach ball and I just clicked on the John Brown thing and nothing happened!

Pam: Use the clicker on the left side of the mouse, Nanny.

Mom: Good Heavens, what is all this?

Pam: Ok, now that you’re in look on the list and you will see a group called Family Fest 2000. Click on that and you will find a video that Doug and I just sent you. Click on it!

Mom:...incoherent muttering...Dad in the background, “take it easy, Betty...well, would you look at that!!”

Long pause......

Mom: Douglas...have you put on weight? Your face looks fat.

Doug: So, did you see the video? We told you it was easy! What do you think?

Mom: I think that you need to drop a few pounds, thats what I think.

Pam: So here’s how it will work on Christmas Day. Everyone will send videos to this app, then you and Papa will get to watch all of them. There will be music and stories, all kinds of things. You and Papa can even send us a video of your own.

Mom: So, thanks to Vasco de Gama here, you’re telling me I’ll get to hear my children singing hymns on Christmas?

Pam: Among other things...yes!

Mom:...long silence.....Well, I suppose it might be nice. Just goes to show that our father in heaven—who owns the cattle on a thousand hills— can take something as heathen as the interwebs and make something good out of it.

Pam: That’s right, Nanny! He sure can.

Mom: Well, be that as it may...I still say that that husband of yours needs to cut back on the sweets!

Family Fest 2020

One feature of all Dunnevant Christmas celebrations prior to the plague of 2020 has been the informal, impromptu concert of music that always breaks out after presents have been opened and dinner consumed. Donnie and I bring our guitars out and Linda sits down at the piano and music happens. There are beautiful carols and goofy songs, and songs from all of our childhoods. It’s one of the highlights of the day. Of course this year, thanks to the C Who Stole Christmas, spontaneous outbreaks of music won’t be a thing. 

Hold on...but what do my wondering eyes should appear, but a Facebook invitation from my wife so dear. 

With the help of modern technology, apparently we are going to try to make a go of it via Marco Polo. No, I am not referring to the 13th century Venetian merchant/explorer, nor am I referring that incredibly annoying middle school swimming pool game. No, I refer here to that marvelous answer to the question that absolutely nobody was asking, Wouldn’t it be great if we could text someone using only videos?? Yes, That Marco Polo. It will work something like this...anyone who wants to perform a song, read a story, play an instrument or whatever, simply signs up on the handy GoogleDoc that Pam attached to the invitation. Then, starting at a predetermined hour we will all perform our selections, submit them via the video app, then sit back and listen to the cheers and jeers that will naturally rain down on the performer. Thusly, we will be able to recreate the general ambiance of the singalong from three or four separate locations. Wonderful, right?

As I have tried to imagine what this might be like, I can’t help but think of my parents, especially my Mom. What in the world would she make of something like Marco Polo? More importantly, how, in the name of all that is righteous and holy, would we be able to explain to her how to use such a thing? I can still recall the angst involved in introducing her to Windows. I use the personal pronoun here in error. I had absolutely nothing to do with my mother’s computer education. That nightmare fell to my sister but mostly to my wife. With a level of patience that would make Job look like a foot-stomping toddler, Pam would labor for hours with Mom trying to get her to understand the general principles of modern computers...only to get called two days later by my distraught and unhinged mother, furious that she couldn’t remember how to...open a window. Trying to picture what all of this would be like if Mom and Dad were still with us causes me to laugh out loud at the possibilities. So, I’m thinking that I might write a What If story for one of my acts for Family Fest 2020 entitled, Marco Polo-ing With Mom.

I better get started. Only eight more days until showtime!