This year Amanda and I took our relationship to a whole new
level. We’ve already been best friends, spouses, and business partners, to
which some people say, “wow, don’t you ever get sick of each other?” To which
we say, “why do you think we have a TV in the basement?” But still, being the
perfect couple, just wasn’t enough, so Amanda decided she had better add
becoming my teacher to the list. This came about one evening when Amanda asked
me if I was aware that she was putting on an 11-week bi-weekly journaling
workshop and that I was signed up for it and that the first class was tomorrow
and that if I missed it I might as well just start packing my bags. Needless to
say, I did not know any of the above and was slightly taken aback by the sheer
audacity of her just assuming that I had time to attend a journaling class for
11-weeks when she knew perfectly well that I was very busy re-watching all of
the Star Wars movies to prepare for the new one coming out this holiday season.
However, I was also keenly aware of the look in her beautiful, deadly-blue
eyes, so instead I said “What time, dear?” I know what many of you are
thinking, that is, that having your wife as the teacher would be awesome and
that it basically guarantees that you will be the teacher’s pet and ace the
class. Well, let me be the one to tell you that anybody that thinks that is an
idiot.
My attendance in the class, has proven, without any doubt, that
being married to the teacher in any of Amanda’s classes does not buy you
brownie points. Actually, it makes things twice as hard. Of course, it also
didn’t help that I was the only male in the class and that many of the writing
exercises involved writing about feelings. Amanda clapped and praised
the other students as they recited heartfelt poems dealing with serious issues
such as divorce, depression, eating habits, parenting, love lost, and love
gained. Amanda frowned and shook her head when I recited my epic space saga
full of flesh-eating aliens, mutant assassins, laser-eyed-lizards, battle-axes,
piles of corpses, and zombie bears. In fact, Amanda was so appalled by my
inability to write thoughtful, emotionally charged literature that she decided
that she would take on the additional role of becoming my X-mas card editor.
This is the main reason why you are receiving this letter after Christmas. This is (I’m not lying) the fourth version of
the X-mas letter. The first was too vulgar, the second too childish, and the
third too politically insensitive. I was becoming so disheartened from my
apparent inability to write an acceptable X-mas letter that I was forced to
take desperate measures in order to actually get something in the mail. Long
story short, I waited until Amanda was put under general anesthesiology for her
ankle surgery to write the letter. Then, when she was all doped up on morphine
and other powerful narcotics, I told her the X-mas letter was all done and
ready to send, to which she responded “why does it taste like purple in here”,
which I took as, “it’s perfect, let’s send it to all of our loved ones”. In
other words, what you now hold in your hand is the unedited, uncensored version
of the 2016 X-mas letter.
Besides spending most of the year in journaling class, we did
manage to do some other stuff this year. We spent a week in the Bahamas
snorkeling with the Thoe family. It was a wonderful trip. We are continually
amazed by the culinary evolution happening in the Caribbean. It was the
gastronomical adventure of a lifetime as we joined the native Bahamians at
little Ma and Pa places like Dominoes Pizza and Burger King. Can you believe
they have a conch burger? It’s number 6 on the drive-thru menu.
We also took a trip to see glaciers in Glacier National Park.
Seeing glaciers in Glacier National Park is more challenging than one might
think. This is mainly due to the fact that there are none, unless of course you
consider a dirty pile of snow, much like something you would find after you
plow your driveway, a glacier. Not satisfied, we travelled north to Canada to
see the glaciers in Kootenay, Banff, and Jasper National Parks. These glaciers,
although much more glacier-esque, were receding at a pace that made them nearly
invisible to the naked eye. All in all, it was a great trip and we both
returned home more depressed than ever.
Other than that, we didn’t do too much this year. By we, I mean
me. Amanda did lot’s of stuff. Here’s a list of some of the stuff Amanda did:
•
Became a board member on the St. Luke’s Hospital
Board of Directors.
•
Taught an 11-week journaling class that was a
smashing success.
•
Put on a number of fundraising events to raise
money for local charities and other good causes.
•
Joined Mentor Duluth to be a role model for
young children in need of such things.
•
Was on the news and in the newspapers for all
her good deeds and special talents; virtually a local celebrity if you ask me.
•
Continues to teach yoga and win awards at her
smarty-pants job at Maurices HQ.
Here’s a list of everything Drew did:
•
Fell over and broke his face.
Which reminds me. If you ever want to get lots of nice letters,
tasty treats, and cool stuff in the mail, all you have to do is seriously
injure yourself. I was unaware of this until now, but I feel like I might be on
to something. If I can just seriously hurt myself three, or maybe four times a
year, I wouldn’t ever have to buy groceries again and people would always be
saying nice things to me like: “Wow, your face looks even better than it did
before.” (On second thought, maybe that isn’t so nice. What did I look like
when I had teeth and a solid facial skeletal structure?) On a serious note, we
can’t thank everyone enough for the support we received during my little
mishap. I did write lovely thank you letters to everyone, to show the true
depths of my appreciation, but I lost them somewhere in Glacier National Park.
I’m not lying, I really did. If you don’t believe me, just look next to the
glacier, if you can still find one.
Season’s greetings and Happy New Year to all.
With love,
Drew and Amanda Imes
