CHANGING OF THE GUARD

CHANGING OF THE GUARD             As you know, Mr and Mrs F (aka “Mike and Becky”) moved to Payson, Arizona in September to build their “affordable” dream house which has now become my personal nightmare.  Let me explain.  Mrs F thought it would be (and I quote) “really cool to write a blog so friends and family could follow the progress of our latest [catastrophic] undertaking” (italics added).  Mr F threw up his hands along with his lunch.  “Absolutely!  If people have time to track their second-cousin-twice-removed’s daily calorie count on Facebook, why not a blow-by-blow blog of a house under construction?  I’m on edge of chair already!”

I think he was being facetious.  If so, for once Mr F and I were on the same page.  However, our alliance was short-lived. Ultimately, Mrs F strong-armed the Mister into submission  which isn’t saying much considering he weighs maybe 98 pounds soaking wet in a full suit of armor.

However, after two months of sporadic posts, the feedback on Mike and Becky’s Deam House has been unanimous:  “Painful to read!” said one reader..  “Whoever’s writing this should be skinned and drowned in sea water!”  posted another.  “Wake me up when you get to the final inspection!” offered a third.  “Really?” “Yawn.”  “Boring as oatmeal.”  “About as exciting as a church hymn.”  “Funereal.”  “Cancel my sleep study!  I’ve found the cure—this blog!”

And so on.  Mrs F was so perturbed by the mother-lode of negative feedback (the blog was, after all, her brainchild) that she “excused” Mr F from the assignment and aimed her baby blues at me.  For those of you who don’t know, for the past twenty-seven years Mr and Mrs F have hired yours truly to write their annual Christmas letter because they are too lazy, untalented, unimaginative, and unpatriotic to write it themselves.  For compensation, I receive free room and board, one full-paid vacation to the location of my choice, and unlimited access to Mr F’s pathetic collection of USC Trojans Football highlights (yes, on VHS).  I had just finished this year’s Christmas missive and was settling into my hammock anticipating a nice, relaxing  break when the shadow of Mrs F darkened my view of the Waikiki sunset, not to mention the gaggle of bikinied coeds cavorting in the surf.  Always the economizer, Mrs F didn’t mince words.  She thrust my contract in my face, pointed to some fine print—other duties as assigned—and the rest, as they say, is history.

So let me alert you to a few changes in the new and improved blog. First, no more Mr F.  He’s been re-assigned to perform miscellaneous tasks, which means he’ll either be making a lot of strawberry-banana smoothies or giving Mrs F a lot of foot massages.  Probably both.  In any case, good riddance to blasé writers!  Second, consistent posts.  Instead of getting a big blob of words every three or four weeks, you will now receive weekly updates.  Maybe.  Third, quality control:  no more Mr F, so things can only get better.  Fourth, no more wishy-washy white-washing.  Not only were Mr F’s posts deathly dull, but they also tiptoed through the tulips. No heft, no grit, no grime, no warts or wrinkles.   There’s a new sheriff in town, so no more pulling punches.

We hope you enjoy this new direction.  If not, I could be back on the streets by Valentine’s Day.