solstice 1992

New Haven, CT 06515
20 December, 1992


Dear Occupants,

In lieu of Hallmark-approved sentiments, the following will have to suffice for conveying our Solstice greeting, and heartfelt wish that you,(fill in)_________________, are well and happy, and looking forward to the transition from kinder and gentler to actually kinder and truly gentler. We know that we are.

This year has been an exciting and interesting one, as well as one marked by sadness at the death of Catherine's brother Tony Caldarella, and also of Dot Warthling, Chris's grandmother. We move on with loving memories of both in better days, and determination to make each of our own remaining days as enjoyable and positive as possible.

To that end, we have leavened a year of challenging work with nautical terror passing for recreation. In May we bought a Sailboat, now named "Kathmandu". We gratefully acknowledge the end of the Reagan-Bush Revolution, which allowed us to shake down the market in used fiberglass at fifty cents on the dollar. Catherine has evolved from highly suspicious of my motives to religious zealot: Before...

"This is just a big boy-toy."
"You are probably plotting to throw me over the side."
"I think there is now treatment for manic personality disorder; maybe it's not too late to check you in someplace quiet."

After...

"Let's take a year off and sail around the world."
"Too bad you have to work, I'm going out with my friends."
"I made you get that boat, and I'm glad I pushed you into it."

The truth, as always, lies somewhere in between. Anyway, we are over the worst of a steep learning curve. At the start, our cockpit chatter sounded something like this:

SHE: "Shit!!! It is going to tip over!!!"
HE: "It can't possibly tip over. There are 7,000 pounds of lead down there holding us down."
SHE: "You don't know what you're talking about. you don't know anything about sailing."
HE: "I'm a great sailor!"
SHE: "You're an asshole!"
CAPTAIN OF COAST GUARD PATROL BOAT: "Pull over and prepare to be boarded.

Later on we sounded like this:
SHE: "We're heeling over too much!"
HE: "Isn't this great?!"
SHE: "Slow down!! I'm Scared!!"
HE: "Isn't this great?!"
SHE: "Where are we? What is that red buoy over there on our left? Isn't the rule red on right returning?"
HE: "It marks Five Foot Rock, but we're far enough inside it, and the tide is high enough."
FIVE FOOT ROCK: "Crunch."
SALTY MARINA OPERATOR: "I can't imagine it will set you back much over a thousand dollars."
SHE: "You're an asshole!"

Anyway, we are now approaching sub-competence, and are more comfortable even than that. (A bad combination, but hey, it works for us.) A trip to Block Island is planned, and another to NYC to visit the Statue of Liberty. The big kids, Michele, now (gasp) 16, and Nat, (ohmygosh) 15, alternate between extreme boredom and agitated extreme boredom. The little ones, Hannah, 6 and Everett, 5, say "Sailing is in my blood." I deny paying them to say that.

This summer also saw us seriously considering a move to California, where a job for me with thirteen weeks vacation was available. Alas, Catherine could find nothing to compare to her job at North Central Bronx Hospital. She is thriving on stress, loving the hassles of NYC Hospital system employment, and catching babies right and left. (and we hope that's all she catches). I'm not sure that any other job will ever compare, but we're open to suggestions. For the foreseeable future, therefore, our address remains the same.

My job alternates between a version of "All Things Bright and Beautiful", except with trolls, and something more spiritually uplifting, like "General Hospital". I ponder alternative careers in Medical Law, though I have no real idea what I could do at the interface, nor specifically what I could do to earn a living. I'll keep you posted. The biggest force in my decision making process is currently inertia, however, so don't hold your breath. We yearn to make that one final move to the utopian small town, resume a less anonymous existence, enjoy a long, happy, debt free life, and ultimately avoid probate, but we are stuck with reality. If anyone knows where that other place is, please send directions.



Meanwhile, we plan to pour some energies into fixing up our current digs, while we await the recovery of the real estate market here in New Haven, gateway to Bridgeport. With five houses for sale on our block, and taxes doubling, it is easier to get rid of Herpes at the moment. So we wait.

And so, as the yearly wobble of the Earth on its axis starts us back toward longer days, SPF 30 sunblockers, and tomatoes that taste like tomatoes, we hope for you that you are looking ahead confidently, investing in infrastructure, research and development, finding your inner child, codependent no more, cautiously optimistic that a cure for colds has been found in daily zinc supplementation, politically correct, historically revised, smoke-free, no longer fearful of nuclear annihilation, concerned about the environment, buying American if the price is right, avoiding yo-yo dieting while staying low fat and cholesterol free, and of course politically involved. We are all of the above. We also hope that this year provides better excuses for contact with friends far and near, visits from anyone who remembers mostly good stuff about us, and selective amnesia to everyone else.



Cheers!