Last week, I shared Armand's Christmas Chronicle #39 because I wanted you to appreciate the length and breadth of some of his roadtrips which nearly totaled a million miles.
In keeping with the season, I thought you'd enjoy bits and pieces of Armand's Christmas tomes, particularly the opening paragraphs, as they hold clues to Armand's mentality and humor. He typed his letters (1963 is the earliest copy I have) until 1998 when "thanks to Ann's laptop and her and Tomas' typing skills" he could ask his readers to "note the fine printing".
Enjoy them with A Triple 'HO' from You Know Who (the title of his 1994 letter):
December 6, 1963
Dear Friends:
Well, we swore we wouldn't, but now we have. One more well-intentioned American family has joined the mimeographing throng. We haven't even an original excuse: just the usual tale of watching the clock tick inexorably toward Christmas and no time to write our friends.
Christmas, 1969
Dear victim(s) of mimeographed greetings,
There seems to be no way to avoid the cheapening of good intentions of writing all one's friends at the festive season. Excuses: 1) we still both finish our teaching chores three days before Christmas; 2) increasing age brings more friends; 3) and removes one's efficiency. It's fashionable these days to blame everything on 4) the population explosion. But 5) let's blame Gutenberg, too. No printing press; no linotypers, typewriters, stencils, and this sort of thing. Just papyrus or holiday sheepskin salutations.
Christmas, 1979
To All Our Dear Friends,
Once more into the breach! And no more leisure for the jump than ever. But doubtless, next year...one of your correspondents, the poor old foreign language dominie, is being put out to pasture, having reached, not quite a month ago, his great climacteric -- to wit, the sixty-fifth anniversary of the day of his birth. No drums were rolled, nor bugles sounded, the occasion scarcely a subject for revelry or celebration, but, withal, an accomplishment of some merit and dexterity. The pasturizing of the old party in question is slated for July 1...after the first term of summer school. Other than which, Mrs. Lincoln, did you enjoy the performance?
December 1989
These prepolished missives, I've come to realize, are truly addictive. Yet, they do possess certain redeeming virtues: they're usually more legible than handwritten scribble (certainly than mine), tell it all (possibly more than most would prefer to learn), and save the composer time. Time, to me at least, is of the essence: I've just passed my seventy-fifth, November thirty, annual crisis and have lots to do before throwing in the towel.
Christmas 1999
The Old Folks at Home. We got the house painted, the chimney waterproofed, the plumbing rejuvenated, I endlessly groomed and combed the yard, (next spring) we'll redo shrubbery, and we've managed to stay reasonably sound of physique. Two months ago we took possession of a silver Mercury Cougar 2000 model sports car (the speedometer tempts the foot with a top reading of 150 mph) - Mary enjoys its comforts (e.g., power windows; we never had those before!); I dance to the tune of its wild engine (and CD player; again, never before). We don't need this beauty, so what?
I was elated to read the last few paragraphs:
I have a theory that the world is still suffering from the Romantic Syndrome, where everybody demands an ever-increasing amount of just about everything - excitement, pleasures, violence, rewards - you name it - a kinetic viewpoint so different from the classic, static world before it. If I'm right, I'm my own victim, guilty as well of trying to pull Mary along with me. (Or could it be that Swan Song thing?)
Alternatively (and hopefully), I'm just trying to set a good example for us oldsters, spokesperson for the ever-active life. Like the battery ad says, "just keeps going and going....."
Armand saw himself as the Energizer Bunny too, just as I wrote in May this year. If he were still alive, he'd be working on his 2007 Christmas letter about now so for those who used to receive it annually, we close with a few choice Armand farewells:
There, now. We've tried to inspire you to adopt the right attitude towards senescence. "Don't go gentle into that good night." (1998)
Hugs (and where appropriate, kisses). (1991)
And what are YOU all doing to keep ahead in the great human race??? (1968)
Time (magazine), week of Dec. 14, p. 58, says these mimeo'd letters are going out of fashion. Now we're getting old fashioned, along with all our other problems. Really a no-win situation.(1981)
News is no good unless shared.(2001)
