Rules For Living (2011)

I, (TeaSloaneJustTea[1]) have been tasked with Christmas letter writing. Let’s begin with an update on my brothers.

Devon’s deep. He favors arrowhead and crystal pendant necklaces.  Somewhat paradoxically, he’s also a committed technologist, frequently applying tech terms to the analog world. I’ve heard him say things like: “I’m upgrading my upper arm strength” while working out, and mumble “Undo, UNDO!” emphatically when he misspells.

Devon enjoys TV ads. He thinks they’re well presented, unbiased product information and they empower him with knowledge that allows him to be a tech resource for the rest of us. His appetite for marketing messages may have caused Devon to develop a (completely manageable) iPhone app obsession. Quality matters, but quantity matters more (like Mom with the candles, Cooper with cookies, and Dad with streaming media players). Many apps are free but Devon finds the good ones can cost as much as $5.  So it is frustrating that our dad not only gate-keeps the iTunes Store but also regularly changes the password.  Devon cracked the code once, but this was rendered useless when Cooper decided to brag about Devon’s (and, by transitivity, his) prowess. [If you haven’t witnessed it, Cooper’s bragging is a whole-body performance, up there with Cirque du Soleil. It includes such signature confidence-exuding moves as: British / Australian / Cowboy accent, pimp-walking, and Jay-Z name-dropping. (Coop will ask a new acquaintance: “hey, do you know Jay-Z?” then, while they’re off-balance searching for an answer, he’ll move onto the next conversation, leaving the listener to infer that Cooper and Jay-Z are tight).  He’s also perfected the insouciant Justin Bieber hair flip, disconcerting for too many reasons to mention.  As you might infer, he doesn’t do subtle.  To the right, you will find his to-do list.]

Like Warren Buffet, my brothers are generally optimistic. Committed to social entrepreneurship, they see their firm Spherical Ventures as the engine of world economic recovery.  SV is a business built on ball reclamation and enhancement, founded after my Dad realized that scores of balls find their way into the remote corners of our yard and nearby properties. For just $.25 per ball, their firm recovers wayward balls. For an additional $.25, their firm re-inflates any balls judged inadequately bouncy, though the client requires an itemized invoice. The brothers pride themselves on thoroughness, partly because their client instituted a penalty for unrecovered balls: $1 deducted for every ball Dad finds after they have declared mission accomplished. Between Groupon and my Dad, my brothers could easily work themselves into bankruptcy.

As for me, I remain focused on my core competences: breakfast production, original singing/dancing numbers, navigating Target, and birthday event planning.[2] New skills still in beta: color coordination, hailing NY taxicabs, and hair-arrangement. One newfound skill; dominating at the card game, Skip-Bo.  Some argue that a key reason for my success is strategic dealing, where all of the “good” cards land in my pile.  The chance of me winning is approximately 95%.  People call me talented — a SkipBo savant.  To them I respond – it’s about the journey people.  Don’t over-think it. It’s just fun.

My Mom’s big goal this year: to become easygoing; she began by listing, prioritizing and assigning due dates to the prerequisites. The first: take an improv class. Like Fight Club, improv has rules. The first: there are no mistakes, only opportunities. As a family, we face a cornucopia of opportunities, particularly at mealtime.  The second rule of improv is to make statements. I live this rule. My favorite statements: “No pictures!” (accompanied with hand completely blocking face from paparazzi), and “No underwear today!”  Third rule: there is no failure, a rule that makes my mom act on her oft-felt feeling that: “I’m pretty sure this next step is wrong; gonna do it anyway.” This new mantra has rekindled her dormant interest in cooking.  Firemen know our address, and it’s not because of stray balls.  The fourth rule of improv is always agree, you are required to agree with whatever your partner just proposed (“yes and..”); it’s an outstanding rule.  After learning this rule my mother’s stint with improv came to an end in favor of ‘active parenting.’

My Dad continues to defy singular definition. Entrepreneur/author/geek, he also seems to be on a mission to infuse technology into every room of our home, possibly as R&D for a brewing home automation venture, pointoption.com.  His goal: try to make our home self-aware, like a friendly version of Skynet from The Terminator. The lights go on when I enter a dark room, the voice of a British lady tells me when someone is at the door, Morticia Adams announces the mail and my best pal/AuPair, Elin, says she’s seen her lights go on and heard an Indian woman yelling at her to wake up from time to time.  It’s super fun to live with us.  Even the firemen look forward to their visits.

From the very bottom of our hearts and during the greatest time of our lives, all of us wish you nothing but happiness, meaning, joy and SkipBo for the holidays and the New Year!