Ghosts Of Xmas Letters Past

I finished up the "dreaded Christmas family newsletter" yesterday. I know many people are not fans of these holiday missives but I try to keep mine blog-like, light with a tad bit of humor.

Since I've discovered the power of my digital camera, the last few letters have included a collage of pictures. I'm not sure how some people feel about my mailing unauthorized pictures of them to my friends and such but some family members might object to my using any picture of them in my newsletter. So I don't ask first.

Afterwards, I put a copy into a notebook that contains about 20 such annual newsletters dating back over 20 years. I thought it might be interesting to re-print a few paragraphs to highlight some of life's goings-on during the past couple decades.

1989: I did fulfill one goal when I ran in the 8K St. Patrick's Day Race last March. Didn't mind plodding along with the retirees and the Weight Watcher drop-outs but when that pack started pulling ahead and fading from view, it was discouraging. If I run again, I not only want to cross the finish line, I want to beat someone there.

1992: My only computer now is my Commodore 64, which doesn't work that well and does not telecommunicate. I have been planning to purchase an IBM compatible but there always seems to be other priorities (new car, furniture, shoes for the kids).

1994: MOST TERRIFYING MOMENT OF THE YEAR FOR WENDY--When we woke up one morning to discover our pet rat Splinter had escaped from his cage during the night. He was re-captured without incident, however.

1995: Greg led the mourning for the passing of Splinter, our first family pet. Wendy didn't shed any tears. She had been pointing out ever since Splinter had escaped from his cage one night that he was living far longer than the average rat.

1998: My parental authority does seem to erode daily with my boys. I asked Greg to help move boxes one day recently and he snapped that if he interrupted his homework to help out, he wouldn't be able to make his bed-time. When I replied that he could stay up the extra five minutes it would take to move the boxes, he chastized, "Don't get smart with me, dad." My other son Scott has gone beyond stealing my lines. He actually says he IS "Mr. Talaga" if he is alone at home when a stranger calls.

2000: Wendy and I celebrated our 20th anniversary at Disneyworld with an elegant dinner at the California Grill, then dancing at Pleasure Island till the wee hours of the morn. Well, past midnight anyway. I spent the wee hours of the morning walking the grounds outside the Disney hotels looking for Greg and Scott who had gotten off at the wrong stop on their busride back to our hotel.