2018 Annual Year-End Card

Right-click to download printable, full-size version of card.

Folding the printed version once in each direction should create a traditional card.

 

 

2018 Annual Letter

Being Thankful in 2018

No wonder traditional retail shops are closing. The idea of stocking actual products to sell seems so antiquated. Thanks to IndieGoGo, Kickstarter, and others, we can now buy stuff that doesn’t even exist yet. Have to plead guilty to participating in this new-fangled globality on both sides. I recently resurrected The Dice Stacking DVD (with new credits) and am—thanks to a modest website—gradually shipping tiny building-blocks-with-a-twist sets all over the world.

 

Celebrated turning 65 this year by getting a first-ever pair of prescription glasses. Books no longer contain miniscule text to be squinted and guessed at. Visiting an actual optometrist not only ended my streak of ever-stronger drugstore readers, it also meant I no longer treat all books as fiction (due to uncertainty over which letters were actually on the page). For an avid reader, cause for celebration.

 

A huge benefit of becoming d'un certain age (as the French might put it) is free rides on BC Ferries—provided the voyage takes place Monday through Thursday. Alas, my seafaring plans are still limited. Fate has decreed those same days to be precisely the ones that I work with students, hungry to learn. Being employed in one's retirement is not all missed sailings, though. The consolation: I get to re-learn algebra and trigonometry.

 

Speaking of Higher Numbers

One day, a potential student sought assistance solving the calculus problems in his textbook. The regular math teacher was busy, so I offered to help. The student shared a set of differential equations involving some imprecise measurements. Rather than looking at a set of indecipherable equations, I suggested we visualize the problem by using concrete examples. Puzzling through the equations, I offered this analogy. “It looks like we are supposed to determine the volume of some indefinite space. Let’s assume we need to heat a circus tent and calculate out how many cubic meters of air must be warmed. The heater needs to generate enough BTUs for that space. We know the area of the floor and the height of the walls. The calculus is needed to figure out the volume determined by the non-linear, sloping roof of the tent.”

 

He looked at me amazed and asked, "Are you an engineer?" The honest response, "No, I used to work in a circus."

 

Still Rowing, Still Growing (Older)

Have now stroked over 23-million, injury-free meters on the erg. Virtually rowing around the world—starting at the equator—I’m up over the North Pole, back down past the equator, and somewhere off the coast of Chile, heading south to work out with the penguins. The mental geography helps decide which sandwich to fantasize about during that session. Currently, el lomitos are fashionable. In addition, a Fitbit has made its way into the fifth pocket of my jeans, adding ten-thousand steps to the daily routine to either reach, or feel guilty about.

 

Small Victories

Along with learning how to use a slide rule and graphing calculator, another minor accomplishment this year was finishing an entire Chinese meal using chopsticks—with my wrong hand. Here's hoping the research on neuro-plasticity and -genesis also applies to codgers. If not, this may still be good practice for any future strokes.

 

Am still steady enough to don and doff a pair of pants without sitting down. Full disclosure: I do a pre-flight scan for a soft landing before these attempts. Chris views near misses and instances of extreme pogo-ing as auditions for a Butoh troupe.

 

Chris recently had a procedure that greatly improved her eyesight. She gets props for attempting to stifle her immediate response when the bandage came off, "My husband is bald! And old!"

 

A Message of Hope

I know that you are all busy, and I don’t mean to harangue. I would like to share one book, if I may. There’s a good chance you have seen Hans Rosling’s TED talks about global statistics. His Factfulnees: Ten Reasons We're Wrong About the World—and Why Things Are Better Than You Think is the most inspiring book I had the opportunity to read in 2018. Not only does the author begin by confessing a love of the circus—specifically singling out jugglers and tightrope walkers—he provides a truly hopeful image of human progress. This quote is one of the more uplifting.

 

"In today’s graveyards, child graves are rare."

 

We would like to wish you and yours a wonderful holiday and a great, vision-filled next year. The following story is a lagniappe for those who made it this far.

 

A Christmas Origin Story

Once upon a time, Santa Claus was having a particularly rough day.

 

After hearing their southern cousins brag about a new, lucrative contract with Keebler—and amid rumors of Peter Jackson's signing bonuses for a secret project—the elves had begun working-to-rule for more benefits.

 

Toy-making season was under way; production was already lagging. Lack of proper maintenance by the elves caused the toy machine to break down. The replacement transmogrifier was on backorder, and a repair was not expected for days.

 

With the toy machine down, the beam enhancer for Rudolf's snout could not be recalibrated. The diminished proboscian beacon caused the reindeer to veer off course—just by a nose—but enough to knock over some of the giant candy canes lining the runway as they practiced touch-and-gos for the big night.

 

The crunch of falling canes distracted Mrs. Claus, and she burned that day's batch of gingerbread men. The Kris-p and Kringle-ly, charred doughboys grabbed all the icing sugar and stormed off into the snow to cool down.

 

The lack of sucrose meant the gumdrops were sour, and they wouldn’t stick to the gingerbread house.

 

One of the sour balls rolled off a gable and dropped into the pudding, causing the entire vat to go off plum. The resulting stench reeked to high heaven.

 

A group of celestial spirits, sensing (well, sniffing) disaster emanating from the North Pole, sent down reinforcements to ward against further catastrophe.

 

Annoyed at having his harp practice interrupted, one reluctant cherub tromped in to Santa’s workshop, dragging a huge fir. Unable to conceal his irritation, the tiny spirit snapped, "Where do you want this overgrown shrub, Chubby?"

 

Thus began the tradition of crowning the Christmas tree with an angel.

 

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copyright 2018 by Todd Strong