Note: When this was written in December, we truly thought the tribulations had passed. Christmas still had to be negotiated. What will forever be known as Covid Christmas, I arrived home on Friday, December 22, prepared for two weeks away from the office. I found Kristen in bed. She was not feeling well. She’d learned she’d been exposed to Covid earlier in the week. A test the following day confirmed our fears, and while Sloane and I were spared, we were forced to isolate for the holiday. Unless you happen to be our daughter, Christmas was a lackluster affair. Our Christmas sat, undecorated, on the back porch, where it remains until our tundra conditions cease. Why was/is the tree on the porch, you might ask. Let’s just say that teenagers can be quite mercurial.
Anyway, on with the show.
We came to Redbud filled with hopes and dreams of a better life. And basically, we've seen those hopes and dreams crushed and battered before our very eyes.
Andy Farmer, Funny Farm
It is that time of year again when we attempt to
encapsulate an entire year on a single sheet of paper, both sides,
single-spaced, and small font. With a line and a half already wasted, we best
get to it, so grab your readers.
2023 marked our first full year in suburbia, a hamlet we
now affectionately refer to as Redbud—a nod to the 1985 Jay Cronley novel and
the 1988 Chevy Chase film, Funny Farm. We’ve not discovered a
corpse in the flowerbed, but I did find a bong behind the refrigerator.
All things considered; we’ve enjoyed our cozy nest of
deferred maintenance on a hill. When conditions are right, we can see
deer and the downtown skyline in the same line of sight. Further, it’s
nice that one can pump gas without being hit up for money, and the air hoses
aren’t missing the tire chucks. People don’t wear pajamas to the grocery
store. And, no, nobody has mistaken our front porch for a gas station.
Steve gets his haircut at a barbershop on Main Street. We’ve been to
hometown parades and attended high school sporting events. Like real
townsfolk.
This Game doesn’t Build
Character, it Reveals It.
Cotton McNight, Dodgeball: A True
Underdog Story
Volleyball is essentially a year-round sport now with
Sloane moving into 7th Grade and becoming eligible for a school team.
Before that, club season had its share of ups and downs. Sloane played
well, of course, and also learned about patience, diplomacy, and
leadership. She also developed into a lethal outside hitter and made some
great new friends.
The season ended with a thud in Oklahoma City, aided by a
covert appearance by Uncle Tito. A few of the families established a
volleyball skid row inside the Bennett Center, adding some punch to their
smoothies. While we’d never claim sports aren’t about winning or losing,
we will concede that defeat’s blow can be softened by keeping good company. You
can read the full story here. https://stevencwilson.blogspot.com/2023/05/out-like-lamb.html
After a short break, it was on to school tryouts, where
Sloane made the A team. As this is Jenks where they take their sports
seriously, she was required to attend two conditioning sessions a day, twice a
week during the summer. The sessions coincided with her taking the
full-length dressing mirror up to her room.
School ball was a huge success. Playing for the Jenks
varsity coach, Tanna Smith, Sloane led the team to a 20-4 record, playing all
six rotations, and was even pulled up to play on the 8th grade team
for the final match of the regular season. At the post-season banquet,
she was a Trojan Tough recipient, presented to the teams’ most valuable
players. After a chaotic club tryout season where she received offers
from each team she tried out for, Sloane is playing this club season for Tulsa
Power.
Human beings were not meant to sit in
little cubicles staring at computer screens all day…
Peter
Gibbons, Office Space
Kristen’s work was a tale of two years. The first
part was a whirlwind while the second part just blew. She maintained an
office upstairs, joined by her trusty assistant Ashton, and didn’t Toobin any
Zoom meetings. Duty called her to Brighton, MI, Dallas, Indianapolis,
Chicago, Tampa, and Orlando. She then returned to Chicago for a client
outing at a White Sox game at Guaranteed Rate Field (New Comiskey Park—if
you’re a baseball fan or Cominsky—if you’re Barack Obama). Another
testament to her organizational skills, not only was the weather perfect, but
the Sox were only 41/2 games of first at the time and still vaguely in
contention.
This came to an abrupt halt in August. With the logic
of a Baywatch episode and the unattractiveness of bandana print shorts,
she was laid off. While a metaphor for something so ridiculous is
elusive, let’s just say when the vessel is dangerously overweight and in peril of
sinking, why dump the crate of anvils when the foam seat cushions are so
handy? As for Steve’s job, refer to Wilson Christmas Letters 2014-2022,
inclusive.
I gotta get going. Me and my loser friends, you know, we gotta get Aerosmith tickets. Top priority of the summer.
Randall “Pink” Floyd, Dazed and Confused
If you’ve been a subscriber for any amount of time, you
know we derive entertainment from concerts, theatre, and sporting events.
2023 was no different. In March, we had the opportunity to see Hamilton.
This is the stage musical that plays fast and loose with history and uses
hip-hop as a medium. The result is actually quite remarkable. You
can read more here. https://stevencwilson.blogspot.com/2023/03/the-pragmatists-hamilton.html This past summer, we saw The Lion King for the first
time, which was also outstanding.
March concluded with Kristen crossing an item off her…I
refuse to type the hackneyed term. Suffice it to say, it involves a pail
typically used for carrying water juxtaposed with a written series of
objectives one wishes to accomplish. This was seeing legendary rock group
Journey at the BOk Center. Though Journey is largely thought of as old
men living off the memory of 1980s schlock, they remain a damn good band that
can please an arena full of fans living off the memory of 1980s schlock.
An anomaly of their contemporaries, they’ve not been demoted to the casino
circuit. Neal Schon’s ego would never fit.
In May, Steve trekked solo to McKinney, Texas, unknowingly
staying moments ahead of a tornado to see an intimate performance by the
progressive hard-rock band and adolescent favorite, Zebra. Later that
month, Kristen saw the Lizzo show in downtown Tulsa, which she swears was good.
Wrapping up June was a daddy-daughter trip to OKC to see Young the Giant—one of
the increasingly rare acts they can agree on.
Why aren’t we flying? Because
getting there is half the fun. You know that.
Clark
Griswald, National Lampoon’s Vacation
On Independence Day weekend, we set out on vacation,
heading for the previously unexplored Gulf Shores, Alabama. Kristen,
channeling Robert Irsay, hatched the idea of leaving in the middle of the night
to knock out the bulk of the driving overnight. The idea worked, but few
things are as jarring as being awakened in the passenger seat at 6:30am by the
sound of a blown tire. Driving did allow Ashton to join us. For his
efforts, he was nearly mauled by a pit bull (Kristen’s Secret Service response
is not something we’ll not soon forget) on Dauphin Island. Once again, you can
read the full story here. https://stevencwilson.blogspot.com/2023/07/sunset-over-pensacola.html
“Obviously doctor, you’ve never been a
13-year-old girl.”
Cecilia Lisbon, The Virgin
Suicides
Our baby girl is now a teenager. It was just a
formality as she’s spent the past few years preparing for this. The real thing
comes with a dialect loosely based on English, late nights, late mornings, and
a general contempt for most everything. These spells are subject to
commence and cease without the vaguest harbinger, making one conclude teenagers
are essentially schizophrenic. The tales from junior high are harrowing and enough to make us reconsider homeschooling. However, Sloane remains a
grounded kid with solid bearings. Her grades are good and so is her
behavior (at least in public) and she has many friends–some of whom are
socially acceptable.
Good mood, bad mood, ugly, pretty,
handsome, what have you, the right person will still think the sun shines out
your ass. That's the kind of person that's worth sticking with.
Mac
MacGuff, Juno
In October, Steve and Kristen celebrated 20 years of
marriage! Though much of it has been spent as karma’s speedbag, a
celebration was in order. The original plan was a return to Cabo, but
when you’re operating on one income and sending your daughter to an elite
volleyball club, concessions must be made. Of course, Kristen had a
contingency plan. Eschewing the hipster pretension of Eureka Springs, it
was a few days in the original sin city, Hot Springs, where the gangsters are
gone but their artifacts remain. The scenery was nice (Tyler Durden’s
house notwithstanding) and the food terrific, while the laid-back scene was
just what the doctor ordered.
As we reflect, we also cast an optimistic eye to 2024, and
pause to wish you the richest holiday blessings and a happy, healthy, and
prosperous new year.
The Wilsons—Steve, Kristen, Sloane, Ashton
