December 29, 2036
Dear Remaining Living Friends:
Oy! We’re just finishing one of our “big change” years that occur every quarter century or so, and boy does my back ache! Also my knees, shoulders, elbows and several internal organs, what few of them are left.
This tradition began approximately in 1961, when my parents and I moved from an apartment in Brooklyn to an apartment in Howard Beach, Queens, future home of various race-related occurrences, by which I do not mean events at nearby Aqueduct Racetrack. This was a huge move, because the new place was a co-op, so it meant that my family had achieved the American dream of owning some small percentage of a building, and all for under 10 grand.
Twenty-five years later, in 1986, Mark and Barbara had another life-changing event: seeing the New York Mets win the World Series. Also having a baby. Not to mention moving from Manhattan to Westchester, a major move upward, American-dreamwise, because it was a move from a co-op to a condo, so while they still did not own a structure, at least they possessed an actual specific space. Little did they know then that they would live in that space for 25 years…without ever seeing the Mets win another championship.
Then there was 2011, and the move to Connecticut. Finally! We owned not only the indoors but the outdoors, too! After 25 wonderful years in that house up on Mount Hallen (during which the Mets were able to make the post-season only when they added six more wild-card teams), I’m happy to report that the kitchen is finally finished!
That’s not the first kitchen, of course, the one that combined the original kitchen and the dining room. Barbara got tired of that one years ago. Then we combined the kitchen with the living room so we could have a kitchen island about the size of Bermuda. Our third kitchen is now extended out onto the front lawn to make room for the nuclear oven, auxiliary beverage center (just for our Ensure®) and a cryogenic freezer so we can freeze meat while it’s alive.
Yes, we watched our grandchildren grow up in that house, but now they’ve moved out, and it’s just us, Casey and her husband again. Fortunately, one of the grandchildren has the patent on the fossil-fuelless hybrid engine that uses solar, wind and cow dung and gets 600 miles on a fill up, at which time you have to find a cow dung refueling station unless it’s a really windy day. She can support everybody on the royalties.
So this year we sold the house for $3 million ($12.98 in 2011 dollars) and have fulfilled Barbara’s lifelong dream to move to assisted living. It took us three months to pack up, sell off and throw out 25 years of accumulated belongings, much of which was actually accumulated during the previous 25 years and stored in boxes we never opened the whole time we lived in Stamford.
And here we are, making new friends every day (they’re the same people; we just keep forgetting who they are), playing bingo, and kvetching about our various aches and pains.
So thanks for reading this blog all these years. Happy New Year, let’s go Mets, and see you soon.