Highs, Lows, and Mids

A Holiday Reflection

I love a good holiday letter. And by “good,” I mean bad. The best ones are similar to cringey wedding toasts. When you watch someone stumble through their puddle of consciousness, say something that shouldn’t have been said, and then try to walk it back—oh, it’s just the best. It’s like watching a drunk uncle fall down a set of marble stairs in slow motion.

Oversharing is also delightful in a holiday letter: “Season’s Greetings! Well, Abraham’s erectile dysfunction isn’t improving, and neither is my excessive sweating. Our marriage counselor hinted that these ailments might be connected…” It’s that raw honesty that I really appreciate.

On the other hand, there are the people who send a padded list of accomplishments. After a few hundred words, you’re wondering why this family hasn’t been awarded a Nobel Peace Prize or a MacArthur Genius Grant. I love these, too. In this case, it’s the raw bullshit I appreciate.

So in the spirit of raw bullshit and honesty, I offer the following:

Captain Banjo Butterbuns

Low: Banjo only experiences lows in the literal sense. Anatomically, he’s low to the ground, a sort of low-riding canine limousine. And the fact that he essentially resembles a gigantic uncircumcised penis doesn’t seem to bother him at all.

High: Every day is a high for Banjo. For no logical reason, he is nothing but confident and optimistic. It’s as though he sincerely believes that all other living things are as excited to see him as he is to see them. If I had a fraction of Banjo’s confidence, my therapist would have a lot less of my money.

Sammers Cashkins Leonard

Low: A few months ago, Sam went 0 for 20 in a basketball game. This was tough, especially because it came on the heels of a 50-day basketball project that consisted of making—not shooting but making—300 shots a day. The ride home from the 0-for-20 game was a dark one indeed. I told him a few things to pick up his spirits:

1. It’s probably not gonna get any worse. I mean, how could it?

2. I’m proud of you for not giving up. When I was your age, I would have missed one shot and been terrified of the potential public shame of missing a second. But look at you, shamelessly leaning into failure. Makes a father proud.

3. Gary Busey once sneezed and blew his cocaine all over his dog and spent the next few hours sniffing his dog’s coat. It was his low moment. And then he got sober. In basketball terms, you just sneezed cocaine all over your dog. Shots are gonna start falling soon. Statistically, they have to.

High: The next week, Sam busted his slump. But I have to tee this up with a collaborative low for my wife and me. On the way to his game, we got into one of the most heated—and most ridiculous—fights we’ve ever had. We make it a point not to argue in front of the kids, but for some reason, we lost our minds and went all Gaza Strip on each other. Sometimes, a married couple just needs a good fight. Anyhow, we failed to make amends before the game, and I was certain we’d set Sam up to go 0 for 21. But no, instead he scored 30 points and was named MVP for that day of the tournament.

Two takeaways:

1. We’re now scheduling all matrimonial disputes on game days.

2. It’s easier to make up when your kid is the MVP. You probably won’t find that in any of the marriage or parenting literature.

Mr. Thunder Jones

High: N/A. Thunder is too cool for highs. I would say he has no fucks left to give, but he never had any fucks in the first fuckin’ place.

Low: See High.

Princess Peckerhead Dubois (on Behalf of the Flock)

High: The bobcats kept their distance this year, and nobody had to be reassembled with super glue. If you haven’t read that little adventure…

Low: A mother trash panda abandoned her litter in the tree behind the chicken coop. We managed to chase them out, but not before they stressed out the flock and halted egg production for a few weeks. Little bastards.

Miss Millie Butterbuns

Low: Millie is an introvert. She’s 150 pounds and she tries to hide behind me when a stranger approaches. I took her to a local outdoor mall, and I now understand the difficulties of celebrity. It was like I had Paul McCartney in tow. We were mobbed by droves of influencers and teenagers insisting on selfies and asking boring questions, like, “How much does she eat?” or making dumb jokes, like, “Wow, I didn’t know bears were legal as pets.” We came home and Millie slept for three weeks.

Another Low: Millie likes to air out her canine va-jay-jay (see below). Normally this is fine, but she’s six now and she’s developed a condition. If she was enlisted, she would have been dishonorably discharged, if you catch my drift. And we certainly caught it. She would roll onto her back in the middle of the night, and my wife and I would wake up choking.

High: The vet figured out the problem. Millie’s on meds and back to her bootiful introverted self.

Charlee Marie Leonard

Low: My baby girl had her heart broken for the first time. The boy groveled and they got back together, and then she decided she had enough of him, and she sent him packin’. One of her volleyball teammates (shout out to the spicy Brazilian) sent her a message after the breakup: “Yeah, Char, walk that dog!” Which, ladies and gentlemen, is exactly how a teenaged female friendship oughta sound.

High: Char made the varsity volleyball team as a sophomore. She played middle blocker, saw a lot of action at the net, won league, and went to the second round of CIF. They asked us parents to put together some pics and messaging for the media guide. Most parents wrote, “We’re so proud of you” or “Keep working hard” or “We love you” or something equally forgettable. Not me.

Sister Lightning Jenkins

High: Those few days when she got to go H.A.M. on a colony of bats that got into our house. If you haven’t read about Sister Lightning’s sublime heroism, do yourself a favor.

Low: Sister Lightning Jenkins has a herpes virus in her eyeball. The irony is thick, right? Here she is, enduring a life of chastity, moonlighting as a serial killer of bats, and suffering from what sounds like an STD, even though it ain’t. She might lose the eye eventually. A one-eyed bat killer who wears a habit—I mean, that’s an action heroine if I’ve ever heard one. May have to write that story. Unrelated: my parents keep a place in Kernville, and there’s a one-legged roofer there, a woman, and she has a three-legged teacup poodle that she keeps in her tool belt when she shimmies up the ladder. It’s absolutely bonkers that this woman doesn’t have her own reality show.

Becky Marie Leonard, My Beautiful Wife

High: She’s kinda like Banjo—everyday is a high for her because she sees the world in that light. One of my favorite things about her is when I tell her I’m headed to therapy and she lights up and says, “Have so much fun!” And there ain’t a hint of sarcasm in it.

Another High: Our daughter’s club volleyball coach opened the season by insisting that he doesn’t really fraternize with parents. He’s an all-business kinda coach, and during down time between games, he would likely be grading papers or working on strategy for the next game. My wife heard this and said to herself, I accept this challenge. Cut to a few months later. The same coach is singin’ sea shanties at an Irish pub with all us parents, having his picture printed on a head of Guinness.

Another High: My wife accepted a new job. I love this because I’ve seen her underestimated so many times. People mistake her charm and optimism and effervescence for weakness, and men in particular think they can take advantage of these virtues. They don’t know what I know—that there are gallons of blood in my wife’s wake, the blood of people who didn’t realize, until it was too late, that my wife is the smartest person in the room.

Low: Have you not read The Canyon Zombie and My Beautiful Wife?

Me

Low: Have you not read A Spicy Alternative to Antidepressants?

High: This Substack. It’s been nothing but laughs. I’m grateful you’re here. :)

Another High: I wrote a novella, a dark crime comedy called Dig. I’ll be releasing it next year, free for subscribers of All Kinds of Funny. So if you haven’t subscribed…

The happiest of holidays to all of you!

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Thanks for reading, subscribing, sharing, re-stacking—all the things. And if you know of any good (bad?)holiday letters, I’d love to hear about them in the comments. I’ll take all the laughs I can get.