This year started with so much excitement and promise for a better year than 2013, but in many ways it was much worse.
The mishaps began around Martin Luther King Jr.’s Birthday/Holiday in January. I was holding my annual party for all of my white friends. I had a little too much to drink and in my inebriated state, I thought it was a good idea to show everyone the time machine on which I had been working. It was nowhere near complete nor should I have told anyone about it but Charlene was at this party and she was looking mighty fine. I guess I just wanted to impress her (as if my award-winning baby back ribs on the grill weren’t enough!).
I invited everyone to my basement and told them, in some form of slurred-English, that all they had to do was wear these wristbands and they’d be teleported to any time and destination they desired. As I mentioned previously, my machine was not ready and it started malfunctioning. I sent my party guests into random times and places throughout history and I have absolutely no idea where they went or how to get them back. It had appeared that I just picked a whole bouquet of Oopsie Daisies. What are ya gonna do, right?
One by one, my guests disappeared into time and space and all that remained were my family. We grabbed the wrist-bands to try to deactivate the machine and my idiot nephew Miles decided to hit “enter” on the keyboard. Off we went to the old west… 1854 to be exact.
Which, by the way, if someone could check on Miles, that would be great. I realize that he probably hasn’t eaten or had any human contact for almost a year. Just come to the door with some candy and he’ll instantly be your best friend.
Initially, my family didn’t talk to me for several months but then we realized we needed to stick it out and try to make the best of my “oopsies.”
My dad got a job “cooking the books” for Mr. Coborn’s Railroad. Since he had done finance for his job in the 21st Century, he was well-versed in Accounting and knew the laws very well. But this was 1854, and most of those laws didn’t exist, so he was able to “bend” rules that had not yet been passed into law. Needless to say, MANY people lost their homes and livelihoods because of this.
My mom opened up the first laundromat in Coborn City. People bring their soiled clothes to my mom and she hand-washes them on the washboard for close to 16 hours a day. She seems happy.
My brother, Kevin started an internet cafe… well, sort of. He created the basis for the first computer. It’s pretty much just a cardboard box with some wires hanging off it, but you can type things and it saves it (or so we think) to this little “chip.” I tinkered with the syntax a little bit to add some variables to which it will start keeping time and eventually (and hopefully) post this Christmas letter right around Christmas Day of 2014. But my math may be a little off.
My other brother, Rob owns his own General Store. He keeps odd and chaotic hours. It’s pretty much open whenever he feels like waking up. Often times there is a line stretched all the way down the block. The town has been patient with his erratic behavior because his prices are so low and he sells the best beef jerky this side of the Missouri River.
My sister, Katrina became an English teacher for the local school. She teaches grades K-12, and only has 6 students. She enjoys teaching them about “LOL” and “BRB.” In keeping with the time period, she makes people write with their right hand and tells lefties that they will go to hell if they continue their sinful ways.
I’ve gone into business as a gun-for-higher. It’s a great concept because sometimes people need to mount their firearms high above the fireplace and I’m so tall that I can reach the hooks up there. I thought it would be a great way to take advantage of my height and my love of mounting things above fireplaces.
We ran into Gary from my MLK party this Fourth of July. He was not happy! Apparently he misses his wife and kids and blah, blah, blah. Well, he challenged me to a duel on the Monday after 4th of July. I opted to sneak into his house on Sunday morning and murder him in his sleep instead. Problem solved.
Other than that, things seems to be going pretty well. My favorite part of the day is hunting my own food because so far, no one even bats an eye when I start eating the recently deceased town folk. They don’t even think it’s gross! I think I’m going to like this place.
We hope to figure out the secret to time travel before we all die of dysentery. We all miss you terribly and hope to return home some time in 2015.
Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year!
Try the brisket!