Holiday Letter 2010
Dear Friends and Family,
It’s hard to believe another year has gone by. It seems like just yesterday that we were spending our days in that lovely cell in Africa. Oh, we can’t thank you enough for all your kind letters and offers of cash. You know, after our guards saw that outpouring of support they got the idea that our friends could help out their cousin the Nigerian prince. I’m sure you all got the emails. Thanks to the hundreds of credit card numbers you sent along, our captors made a small fortune and in a fit of generosity decided to let us go. Can you believe it?
So, there we were all alone stranded in Africa. Luckily, we met up with a group of angry young men on their way to Kismabutti, a small village at the base of the Nile. They kept chattering on about liberating some friends from militant stenographers. I had no idea what they were saying but Tim somehow managed to strike up a conversation with their commander. He was so impressed with Tim’s knowledge of obscure Amish typography that he immediately made him a general in the Esoteric People’s Liberation Army. Wasn’t that incredible?
Tim’s first mission was to capture a warehouse of black-market beauty supplies. Everything was going well until clumsy me tripped over a case of false eyelashes and tumbled into a vat of overnight mud masks, dragging poor Tim with me. I don’t know how long we sat there trapped by the dried mud, but the next thing we knew we woke up in a museum in Egypt. It seems that some archeologists mistook us for ancient statues and shipped us off to be catalogued. It sounds ridiculous but that’s really what happened.
Imagine, an entire team of Ukrainian archeologists mistaking us for ancient artifacts. Why, Tim just turned 40! As an apology, they offered to take us along on their expedition up the Nile. Turns out I was a born archeologist. Honestly, who would be better at digging up old ruins than someone obsessed with dusting? Within weeks they asked me to lead an expedition to Turkey to hunt for Greco-Roman dental hygiene equipment. It was all so unexpected. I felt like we were living in some preposterous fantasy.
Sadly, our expedition was not very successful. On our first day in Istanbul we visited an ancient underground cistern where Tim turned some knob he shouldn’t have and the next thing we knew we were sucked up into a pipe. When we came up for air we found ourselves in the catacombs of Paris. Somehow Tim had accidentally discovered an ancient toilet system that spanned all of Europe. Seriously, if I didn’t have the soggy underwear to prove it, I would have said it was a ludicrous lie too.
I quickly contacted my archeology colleagues, and they insisted we travel to Kiev so Tim could present his findings at the annual Archeological Symposium on Toilets and Bidets. His lecture was so impressive that the head of the Sam Houston Institute of Technology immediately offered him a fellowship to study pre-Columbian sewage treatment in South America. We couldn’t believe it. I had to confirm the offer twice to make sure it wasn’t a bold-face lie.
Unfortunately, we never made it to our dig in Bogotá. Due to a slight spelling error we ended up on a freighter headed to Greenland. Happily, we soon discovered that our Russian captain was the second cousin twice removed of the commander of the Esoteric People’s Liberation Army. Wasn’t that an impossible coincidence?
After discovering our deep connection, the captain took us into his confidence. Apparently, he’d uncovered a subterranean passage that connected the Frasier Asoff islands to the men’s room of the Newark airport. As I write this we’re preparing an expedition. If we succeed, we’ll be the first ex-freedom fighting archeologists specializing in pre-Columbian waste management and Greco-Roman dental hygiene to travel from Greenland to Newark by dog sled. I know, I know it all sounds completely unbelievable. But really, who would make
this stuff up?
Tim and Erick