2012 Layne Family Christmas Letter



Ah, Christmas – that wondrous time of year when we take time from our busy lives to reflect upon Christmases past and all the care and thoughtful planning that went into selecting the perfect gifts for the kids, only to be trumped by whatever electronic gadgets they got from grandma and grandpa.  This year, Karen and Mark hope the girls enjoy their shoelaces and toothbrushes.

In spring, Allyson channeled her desire to club small round objects into a more socially acceptable outlet when she became the Babe Ruth of the Roselle Medinah Softball and Baseball Organization (minus the drinking and philandering).  Mark regrets he didn’t run more red lights on his way to the league championship game, having arrived in the warm afterglow of her grand slam.  Fortunately Karen was ready with the camcorder and thus managed to capture Ally’s swing, contact, plus a lot of frantic screaming and jerky video of the dirt behind home plate.

On the subject of traffic signals, Mark J. Layne & Associates forfeited most of its 2012 earnings to red light camera violations, thus prompting the firm’s hostile takeover in October when Mark was asked to step down as CEO because the board of directors (aka Karen) was tired of having him around the house all the time, messing up the bathrooms.  Mark has since joined the real estate department at Commonwealth Edison where he was tasked with, among other things, developing a new super breed of fighting monkey.  This being his first experience with cubicle life in twenty five years, Karen was glad he was issued a hardhat which she insists he wears at his desk, not only for protection when he nods off, but for the merciless teasing he receives from coworkers.  Karen has adjusted to Mark’s absence during the days by redoubling her shopping efforts and shifting the firm’s mission statement from real estate consulting to house cleaning.

Whereas Amanda continues to impress with her skills as a writer, Ally has developed a knack for photography, prompting her to ask Santa for a camera.  Mark & Karen were unaware that shaving and photographing cats was an up and coming niche in the field.  Mark explained to her that while this was an interesting choice of careers, it might be more practical to ask Santa for a quality pair of cat shears first.

Speaking of cats, Taffy has become a legendary skunk hunter.  Though she hasn’t caught one yet, she remains undeterred, emboldened by her new strategy to smell enough like the enemy that she’ll be able to sneak up unnoticed.

In an effort to escape the mayhem the Ryder Cup brought to town in September, M & K decided to bring the family down to Disney World.  (Motto: Experience the magic of your disappearing cash!)  By “M & K” we of course mean “K” in that “M” considers Disney a money devouring monster in the shape of a giant mouse whose sole objective is to separate him from his savings faster than the attraction he just waited in line over two hours to ride.  The generosity of Mark’s cousins and the fact that only Amanda got sick this time made the experience almost bearable compared to trips past.

Speak of the devil, on November 23rd, Amanda turned 13.  Refusing to admit she’s a teenager, at least she now has a reason for taking two hours to get dressed, showering before soccer practice, doing her hair before going to the pool, staying up so late she misses the bus, and changing her clothes more often than the cast in a Broadway musical.

At 5’6” and 225 lbs., our 9 year old nephew, Jayson, was the only high school player on his Pee Wee football team.  Despite Jay’s prodigiousness, his team lost every game this season owing to the new league rule which required him to play on his knees, blindfolded.

In other sporting news, owing to his legendary skill operating the scoreboard during his high school freshman “C” games, Mark was asked to be an assistant coach on Ally’s basketball team.  He hopes to teach the girls such useful skills as the slip shank, the eye poke, the reverse Lindy, and decoupage.

Speaking of eye-poking, in November Mark broke his left ring finger playing hockey.  Unfortunately, the referee was no less blind after Mark jabbed him than before.  Although the finger is healing fine, as Mark’s luck would have it, he emerged from surgery with a third left foot.

As the warmth of the season envelops us like a pestilential fever, let us recall that while Christmas is for children, “Parents were invented to make children happy by giving them something to ignore.”  [Ogden Nash]

Merry Christmas to All, and to All Good Grief,
Karen, Mark, Amanda, Ally, and Tabby… er, Taffy

Walk of Shame

America was discovered by men of great courage – intrepid explorers who braved long and perilous ocean voyages, landing upon the rugged, foreboding shores of this continent where they endured harsh conditions, bitter winters, hostile natives, and the Donner Party, all to bring the hope of civilization and professional football to this wild and untamed land.   

Which leaves me to wonder – given our proud heritage of exploration and fortitude, when did we all become too lazy to walk?

What I’m referring to is the recent proliferation of electronic convenience vehicle or ECV – a battery powered wheel-craft designed to locomote persons who ostensibly cannot do so themselves.

Also referred to as “mobility scooters,” I became aware of their existence thanks to those late night television ads which prey upon the elderly, specifically my mother.  I did not realize the extent of their pervasiveness, however, until we decided to bring the kids to Disney World.  (Motto: Experience the magic of your disappearing cash!)

When I say “we,” I of course mean “my wife” in that most males recognize Disney as a money devouring monster in the shape of a giant mouse whose sole objective is to separate you from your savings faster than the speeding roller coaster you just waited in line two hours to ride.

After a twenty minute delay during which our bus driver loaded, secured, and unloaded a half dozen ECV’s, we finally arrived at the Tragic Kingdom.  (Motto: The happiest place on earth for Disney shareholders.)  

At first, I thought we had stepped into the midst of a new Disney attraction:  Scooter Land – a futuristic society where humans have evolved beyond their need for legs.  I could already hear Goofy’s voice in my head: “Kindly exit through the gift shop featuring an enticing assortment of Mickey scooters, canes, and prosthetics.” 

At the risk of offending ECV owners, I realize many persons who employ these devices do so out of medical necessity.  Our neighbor, for instance, rides his scooter from the house to the end of his driveway – tubes up his nose, oxygen bottle strapped to the rear, smoldering cigarette dangling from his lower lip – to take out the trash.   

My own father, who suffers from congestive heart failure and has two bad knees, is just the sort of person who would benefit greatly from one of these contraptions.  He gets out of breath walking twenty feet and can’t ascend a flight of stairs without pausing for a martini.

Dad is a veteran of WWII, however, and would never consider taking advantage of any modern convenience that might improve his quality of life.  In his mind, crawling on one’s belly under barbed wire through a muddy field with tracers flying overhead is nothing compared to the indignity of accepting another’s assistance – unless it’s from a short-skirted cocktail waitress carrying a tray of vodka tonics. 

Nevertheless, each day of our magical adventure found us assaulted, nudged, and bypassed in line by folks on scooters.  There was even an ECV rental booth at the entrance to every park.  Most days, they were sold out by ten AM.

It confounds me why anyone with a dire medical condition which prevents them from walking would purposely come to a 10,000 acre theme park where walking, standing in line, and sprinting to the nearest ATM are prerequisites.  

Yes, there were those indolent few who needed assistance to get around.  There were also a remarkable number of perfectly healthy individuals – some in their teens – riding to and fro for no reason other than they were too lazy to walk or didn’t want to wait in line.    

At our resort, we watched two intoxicated seniors – one wearing a Richard Petty hat and the other a Dale Earnhardt t-shirt – plow their way through the hotel lobby, scattering toddlers and costumed characters, in a race to take the pole position at the early-bird buffet.   And my nine-year-old was nearly mowed down outside the tennis courts by two scooter-enabled couples in their thirties who had cut their doubles match short to ride to the fitness center for their 3 PM rock climbing class. 

Back home, our local news carried the story of a heroic man who came to the aid of a woman whose scooter became trapped on the railroad tracks at a crossing.  She had somehow turned parallel to the rails and got her wheels stuck.  Casting his personal welfare aside, this brave soul bolted into the crossing, pulled the woman from her scooter, and dragged her to safety mere seconds before the downtown express pulverized her ECV into poker-chip-size pieces. 

During the post near-tragedy interview, the woman was understandably grateful to the man for saving her life, but nevertheless disappointed he didn’t also rescue her scooter as she would now have to walk the four blocks back to her home.  The man apologetically offered her a ride.

So as the dawn of another year approaches, I resolve to walk less, ride more, and perhaps take up smoking, because if I’ve learned one thing for certain, it’s the stairway to heaven ends in a souvenir shop.

 



See Ya Sioux

GRAND FORKS, ND – Exercising its obligation to safeguard the moral fiber of America under authority granted to it by Congress and the US Constitution, the NCAA took another important step toward erasing the scourge of this nation’s ugly Native American past by making it illegal for University of North Dakota athletic teams, cheerleaders, and bands to wear or display the school's American Indianhead logo and Fighting Sioux nickname.


Inlaid Marble Floor, Ralph Engelstad Arena
Photo by Bill Alkofer

In his letter to UND provost Paul LeBel, NCAA executive vice president, Bernard “Ben” Franklin, stated that should the university refuse to cooperate in what is the NCAA’s latest round of "ethnic cleansing," they must forfeit participation in all post-season tournament play or otherwise risk having their upcoming men's and women's hockey games moved to a cattle pond on the Yankton reservation and their home venue, the Ralph Engelstad Arena, turned into an auto mall.

It was under this same pretext that in 2005, the NCAA forced the University of Illinois to retire the name, regalia, and image of Chief Illiniwek, a student mascot who performed a Native American “fancy dance” during the halftime of men’s home varsity football and basketball games wearing traditional Oglala Sioux ceremonial dress.

Although most University of Illinois students, faculty, and alumni considered The Chief a proud tradition, respectful of the State’s Native American heritage, certain Native American groups found the symbol to be “predominantly offensive and deeply disparaging to Native Americans.” According to a spokesperson for the National Indian Education Association, it was high time this dramatic and dignified depiction of Native American culture was eliminated so as to “stomp out any remaining public memory of the Illiniwek people,” a consortium of Algonquin tribes who once thrived in the central Midwest.

Percy Stumbling Bull, general manager of the Spirit Lake Casino in Devils Lake, ND, believes the recent NCAA directive leveled at the University of North Dakota is crucial in his people’s goal to shield all aspects of Native American culture from the prying eyes of white society.

“Current generations of whites don’t realize their ancestors essentially stole North America from indigenous peoples,” said Bull. “As such, it has been our ongoing policy to attempt to erase our historical legacy from the modern world, thereby honoring our ancestors by protecting their obscurity – at least until such time as gambling revenues allow us to buy back the territory we lost in the Louisiana Purchase.”

Honorary University of North Dakota professor and legendary 1960’s rocker, Burton Cummings, explained it is the belief of many Native Americans that by further isolating themselves from mainstream society, they might one day hope to overcome the misunderstanding and mistrust that plunged their people into decades of destitution, impoverishment, and substance abuse dating back to the arrival of white settlers from Europe.

Said Cummings, “American woman, mama let me be.”

In the wake of the NCAA decision, a group of outraged students petitioned the University of North Dakota board of governors to consider changing the school’s moniker to, “A Team Named Sue.”

Photo by Bill Alkofer

The NCAA acted immediately by making it illegal to speak the name ”Sue” in public lest it be misconstrued as “Sioux” by college sports fans. Based on these same concerns, NCAA attorneys have proposed landmark legislation to ban US citizens from naming their unborn infants “Sue” or “Susan.”

UND is now said to be considering such alternate mascot names as the “Angry Aboriginals” and the “Not So Pleasant Potato Farmers.”

The university is also grappling with funding the multi-million dollar task of eliminating the Indianhead imagery from campus venues, official media, and football players’ biceps.

In the wake of the recent NCAA directives, other universities are considering proactive changes to their identities. The Florida State Seminoles, for instance, will now be the FSU Felons, and the Arkansas State University Indians will become the Rednecks. Although unrelated to Native American iconography, the University of South Carolina Gamecocks (referred to by their fans as the “Cocks”) will be making the switch to the Penises, while the Oregon State Beavers will transition to the Naughty Female Body Parts.

According to Franklin, most US universities have nothing to worry about, such as the University of Hawaii’s Rainbows which already fits the NCAA's vision of proper symbolism. The mascots from Georgetown University and Indiana University will remain intact only because nobody knows what Hoyas or Hoosiers are. The State of Indiana, however, will be forced to change its name to Nativeamericana.

In March 2011, the North Dakota Legislature approved a law requiring the university to continue using its logo and nickname despite the threat of NCAA sanctions. The Legislature later repealed the pro-nickname law when the NCAA declined to exempt UND from its policy against the use of American Indian nicknames and logos.

Nickname backers then responded by filing petitions demanding a June vote to decide whether UND should keep the nickname and logo, or instead move the university across the border into Canada where folks aren’t so uptight.



© 2012, Working Words Productions