HOLIDAY HASSLE 2023

In January, I started a new job (more on that later), and one of my colleagues asked me how old I was.  Before I could answer, he ventured a guess: 60?  For many of you, this Greene Family holiday missive may feel like it’s been inflicted upon you for that long, and for that I wholeheartedly apologize.

The beginning of this year found Sam starting his Junior year in college.  Fully committed to his major of computer engineering with most of his GE and prereqs out of the way, he continues to work for one of the school’s IT departments.  If that alone doesn’t make him the most attractive and eligible bachelor in the greater Provo/Orem area, he’s ratcheting up his sexiness by employing the family minivan as his mode of transportation.  It’s a 2008 Honda Odyssey that never properly got named when we had it here at home.  We threw around the name Homer, but it didn’t really stick.  So, for all of you single ladies out there, I would imagine Sam would be open to your suggestions. 

Kali and Jack moved into their first house in Mesa in the spring of this year and quickly added to their fold: they got another dog, Bruce, a Blue Healer mix whose energy is matched only by his desire to eat whatever’s on offer, even if it’s his brother Hank’s leather collar.  Kali was asked to be one of the advisors for student government at the school where she teaches (it would be weird if she were asked to advise at a different school), which gives her a little more variety while still teaching Chemistry and Mandarin.  Jack went to work for a different electrical contractor as a project engineer soon after they moved into their new house.  While the new job is giving him a lot of great growth opportunities, he’s being given increased opportunities to tune up his road rage as the project site at which he’s working is on the opposite side of the valley.  When that project wraps up, he’ll be able to move on to another project . . . next door to his current project site. 

On President’s Day, we gave leave to our senses and decided to get another dog: a mix between a Chihuahua and a Dachshund – some call it a ChiWeenie; we call ours a Psycho.  Her name is Phoebe, and among her many talents are peeing on the family room floor while looking you straight in the eye (as if she’s daring you to say something) and barking.  With the latter, whenever given the chance, she makes a beeline to the back fence and starts up a yak fest with the two pugs living behind us.  If I thought she and the pugs were doing something to solve world peace or harness the energy of splitting an atom, I’d give her a free pass, but I suspect it’s just a canine equivalent of gossip and dirty jokes.  (And I’d be okay with the latter if I could understand her.) 

A few months back, Erin switched from one real estate brokerage to another where she’s on a team headed up by the mother of one of the students at the high school where Erin worked in the library.  Funny how life makes connections for you.  When she’s not busy trying to convince a home seller that Barney Purple is NOT a color that MOST people would want to see on their kitchen walls, Erin still teaches a lesson at church with the women’s organization. 

As I mentioned, I started a new job at the first of the year – I returned to work for the company that moved us to Arizona almost 20 years ago: Ranpak.  When I left Ranpak in 2008, I felt like I was still a kid; upon returning in 2023, I’m DEFINITELY not a kid (I refer you to the opening of this message).  Older, grayer, and fatter but still the same guy selling paper-based packaging. 

We hope all is well in your corner of the world, wherever that may be!  When you find yourself (whether it’s because you lost a bet or you’re being punished) coming out to Arizona, drop us a line so we can get together and have you stay with us.  We have an empty nest with only a small dog – we’ve trained her not to pee ON anyone, but you might want to keep your suitcases on a shelf.  God bless!

Greene Family Christmas (An Annual Affliction)

We’re not even halfway through the month of December, and we’ve already been the recipient of enough family Christmas cards to wallpaper a gymnasium.  Obviously, Erin is the one so universally beloved and deserving of these glad tidings and the reason we receive as many as we do.  As I take a gander at these perfectly posed, carefully coiffed, blissfully beatific photos, these questions leap to mind: How many hours and attempts were made to get this one photo?  How much medication was involved and/or needed afterward? Did PhotoShop stock spike a few weeks back?  Rest assured, no PhotoShop will be required for this year’s missive from The Greenes, but I can’t promise that medication won’t be needed after you read it. 

With the world slowly coming out of hiding as 2022 dawned, Sam started his second year at BYU.  In his major, there’s a class that many put off until the last possible minute but is required in order to climb into the upper levels of the program and get serious – Sam decided to bite the bullet early and subject himself to the inevitable torture.  While Sam happily came through alive and kicking, and able to move on to bigger and better things, there were times in that semester I believe he would have preferred undergoing waterboarding to some of the tests and assignments he had to endure.  He’s thrown himself headlong into his major and has joined a club/group (I’m not quire sure what the kids are calling these little organizations these days) with the goal of building an electric car to compete with other groups from other schools.  Sounds to me like he’s on a career path to buy and run a social media giant someday. 

In June of this year – in fact, on the same date as Erin’s parent’s anniversary – we welcomed a new member into the clan: please allow me to introduce you to Kali Stoker Greene, Jack’s better half.  They were married in Las Vegas, but Elvis didn’t officiate at the wedding.  Leading up to the nuptials, whenever I would tell people that Kali and Jack were getting married in Vegas, I would either get a slightly raised eyebrow or a knowing “been there, done that” nod, which would require a brief explanation that Kali is from Las Vegas where most of her family lives.  They were married in the temple for our church and not on the Strip, in case I still hadn’t painted enough of a picture for you.  As of the writing of last year’s Christmas letter, Kali was someone we had met only once, and this meeting was a memorable one: Jack had come home from work that day and made a beeline to his bedroom in the basement.  That wasn’t TOO unusual, but what ensued was two hours of furious cleaning of his bedroom, a thorough scrubbing of the basement bathroom, and the hauling out of at least three bags of garbage.  While we didn’t quite know at the moment what inspired such anomalous behavior, it soon became clear when he announced a “friend” of his named Kali was coming over to visit.  Kali is a Chemistry and Mandarin teacher at one of the local high schools, and Jack has moved from the field as an electrician and into the position of an estimator.  They currently live in a guest house on some rural property surrounded by livestock and other farm animals.  Their dog, Hank, spends his day hanging out with the jackasses – and by that, I mean, the donkeys, while Jack and Kali are off at work. 

On the day after Christmas last year, we had to say goodbye to Lola.  I’m not quite sure where religious doctrine ends and fantasy begins, but I hope we get to see her again someday.  Yes, I’ve become one of those crazy dog people.

With the wackiness of the housing market in full wack, Erin has maneuvered the real estate landscape extremely well and continues to kick butts and take names – and sometimes it’s to sell a house.  She continues to teach at church, and no one has gone to Hell because of it – win win.  As for myself, I was asked to work in an outreach program where we serve the folks in a local detention center who are awaiting trial, awaiting sentencing, or have been detained by ICE and awaiting deportation.  I’m pleased to say that my activities this past year have kept me free to come and go at this detention center 

Enjoy your holiday season with family and friends – whether you need medication or not to do it.  Our doors are always open to you.  Peace on earth and in every life!

Season's Beatings 2021

Recently, we had to keep two dogs locked inside of our home for about nine hours.  While I wasn’t so naïve as to believe that the two canines were going to be content to “hold it” for that entire time, I wasn’t expecting to find our front entryway looking like a subway station from 1989.  Fortunately, we had chosen to appoint our home with flooring that is both more attractive than pockmarked concrete and cleans up far more nicely.  Nevertheless, while a hazmat team wasn’t necessary, it took more than a few minutes to clean up . . . and that may be how you view this year’s holiday letter from the Greenes: a mess you expect to encounter that takes you more time to get through than you would care to devote.  We get it. 

With a new year, Sam began a new chapter in his life: college.  While still in the throes of the pandemic as the year began, his initial college experience was less than ideal.  He didn’t expect anything on the scale of “Animal House,” but he wasn’t quite prepared for “Watching Paint Dry” either.  Nevertheless, he was able to land himself a job right out of the gate that is far better than what Erin (grounds crew where she got a stick with a nail on the end of it to pick up trash) and I (cleaning student apartments once the tenants had moved out and clearly had no expectation of getting a dime of their security deposit back) had back in the day: working for the school’s IT department – so there might be some shades of “Revenge of the Nerds” involved here. 

Remember how I mentioned TWO dogs in the opening of this year’s missive?  No, Lola didn’t get pregnant and give birth to another dog – that would definitely be immaculate conception.  Jack moved back to Arizona from Utah for a better career opportunity (still an electrician and loving it), and he’s been living with us since so he can save money to buy a house . . . and, no, I’m not calling Jack a dog.  With Jack’s arrival came Hank, a lab mix that, I’m sure, finds Erin and me the two most boring people in the world.  All we do all day while Jack’s at work is sit at our computers in the office and talk on the phone.  No fetch, no walks.  To him this place is a tomb – he’d be better off finding a nut house where it’s fun. (If you got that reference, you’re our kind of people!)

It’s not been a good year for Lola, if I’m being honest.  First, she gets her entire life turned upside down with the introduction of Hank into her world – his exuberance to play, run, chase, and smell butts is not shared by Lola.  Then, in early fall, she developed some health problems that are likely to spell the end for her at some point in the not-too-distant future, which is a little hard to accept given the fact she never took up smoking, and alcohol has never been a drink of choice for her.  Be that as it may, we’re just trying to keep her comfortable – and if we ever make a movie about her life, I’m thinking Salma Hayek would be the perfect person to do the voice for Lola.  Let me know if you have a connection.

Back in May, Erin walked away from the school to work full time as a real estate agent.  Some of you might be wondering what it’s like having both of us working from home and sharing the same office.  While I don’t possess sufficient talent to describe this perfect mix of Nirvana and Utopia, suffice it to say the spell is broken for both of us when Lola’s licking gets a little too intense and loud to be ignored – it’s like she insists on an audience. After being the fearless leader of the local women’s organization at church, she’s been able to fade a bit into the background and help out in other ways with her main focus on teaching a lesson once a month.  As for myself, I’ve been asked to work in the local men’s organization at church as the secretary.  My latest focus has been on toning my calf muscles so they look really good when I wear those short skirts. 

With that lovely image, I leave you.  May your holidays be happy and warm – it’ll likely be in the mid 60s here in Arizona when Christmas rolls around!  Our door is always open to you – stop by and stay a while with us.  It’ll give Lola someone new to impress with her licking.

Seasons Greenings

Sitting around the Thanksgiving table with Erin’s in-laws, we were having a lovely chat with one another, and I inquired after the latest comings and goings of a particular relative.  As my father was lifting a modest forkful of stuffing to his mouth, he casually provided, “She’s oiling animals at the local zoo.”  Here’s where you’re going to get a little insight into the Greene family: upon hearing that, none of us at the table thought this was incorrect or fallible intel; rather, we all fell to trying to picture in our heads what “oiling animals” meant.  And just as I was formulating a picture in my mind of an elephant on a pneumatic lift with my relative standing underneath, my mom added this point of clarification: “She’s bathing snakes and oiling lizards.”  Well, the elephant and the pneumatic lift were out with that little nugget, and our dinner conversation didn’t miss a beat.  Just like our lack of surprise or shock regarding that Thanksgiving revelation, you’ll read through this annual missive and not think twice about how weird we are, and I’m not quite sure if that says more about you than us. 

At the beginning of this year, Sam was living and working down in Viña Del Mar, Chile, as a missionary for our church before the ‘Rona hit.  In March, he and the entire gaggle of North American missionaries were flown back to the states to await reassignment, which came in April: Dallas, Texas.  Odd coincidence here: if you stood the Chilean flag next to the Texan flag, most people wouldn’t be able to tell you which was which.  Something tells me a lot more thought went into Sam’s reassignment location besides the flags’ similarities, but there you have it.  Because of quarantine, he was able to familiarize himself quite intimately with the inside of his apartment in the Dallas area, so if you know anyone who’s looking to relocate to the DFW Metroplex, Sam is uniquely qualified to tell them all about the pros and cons of his apartment’s interior.  Sam completed his mission in November and is currently preparing to start his freshman year in college in January. 

In early August, Jack packed up his life and moved to Utah to start an apprenticeship to become an electrician.  Yes, this is the same kid who would initiate a Harry Potter war by standing twenty paces apart from another person while both are holding Roman candles and firing them at one another – and now he’s being entrusted to wire up a 4 bed/2 bath single-family residence to ensure they have sufficient electricity being supplied safely to all corners of the home.  When Jack loaded up his truck for the move, he had one bag lightly packed with his clothes, a pillow, a blanket, and enough guns and ammo to supply a mid-sized militia.  Since he didn’t report an ambush in his journey up to Utah, I trust he still has his second-amendment-protected stockpile at the ready – in fact, I believe it has grown.  If you’re in the Provo area, give him a call – he’d love to take you out into the woods and stalk something. 

Amid the quarantine, Erin decided to get her real estate license.  All of her classes had to take place online via Zoom, and she came away from that experience with a burning question: were some of her classmates possessed of an overly high level of self-confidence, unaware that they could be seen by everyone else, or did they just not own a mirror?  Undaunted, Erin passed the test on her first try, and I’m happy to report that she has already sold two houses and has other items in the works – she’ll soon be selling so much real estate that I can retire from the mortgage business and pursue my true passion: pet grooming.  Lola, our dog, is going to look awesome with a Mohawk. 

Without a doubt, it’s been a weird year, and this report from the Greenes probably adequately punctuates that truth.  Many years ago, a friend of ours in southern California said, “Promise me, Grant, that you’ll write one of these every year, and you’ll always send me a copy.”  I don’t share that with you to pat myself on the back but to let you know there’s someone else to blame for all this.  If you want, I’ll give you his name and address.  In the meantime, be safe, be strong, and be well, folks!

Perspective

Things are slightly nuts right now, and that's probably an understatement depending on your current situation.  Whatever that situation may be, let me give you some perspective . . . but in reverse. 

Through the wonders of Facebook, when we're not reading about the latest (insert your favorite coronavirus-related rumor here), we have the ability to connect with the friends we've made over lo these many years and sort of keep track of one another.  Now, I want you take a moment and "review" your list of friends and look on them both as who they are now and who they were when you first met them.  Stay with me.

I have a friend on FB who regularly posts photos of the vegetables he's grown in his garden, and those photos usually have ten or twelve comments urging him on in his green thumb efforts.  If you met him today via one of his veggie photos, you'd feel fortunate you met him: he always has a positive outlook on life, and in those photos where he includes himself, he's always wearing a smile.  But when I met this guy, he was a punk.  No, I'm not saying that to paint him as a jerk who later reformed.  Literally, he was a punk rocker with the haircut and leather jacket - he was in a band whose logo he painted on the back of his leather jacket.  I'm fairly sure if you interviewed him back then and asked what he thought he would find joy in thirty years later, gardening would not be on the top ten list. 

Another friend is the lead singer of a country band that tours the nation.  The photos he posts show him singing at his various gigs and being with his band.  The guy I first met was on the border of shy; in a room full of people, he could sort of disappear in the crowd through his silence and conscious effort to avert all attention away from himself.  The man I first met and the man I see now on Facebook share similarities like they both have two arms and a head sitting on top of their shoulders, but that's about it. 

And I'm friends with a couple who have two beautiful children, and their photos and posts are devoted to being a family and the supreme joy they experience with one another.  When I first met them, they were just like that (only without the kids).  They were high school sweethearts, and they haven't changed a bit in personality or looks (he has less hair now but not much because he wore a flattop when I first met him).

There's nothing profound about this post.  It's just a reminder to look around you and see what has changed and what has stayed the same.  It'll be different for all of us, but it should give us the perspective to realize we have the power to be who we want to be regardless of who we were and the ability to maintain who we are even when life might try to make us to change: it's our choice.  Wherever you are in all that, choose to be your best.  Be well, my friends, and be good to each other.  The world's a little crazy; no need to add to it.

2019: Stretch Before Reading

When you’re young, you can run around, take a beating, and wake up the next day a little sore.  By the next afternoon, you’re up and at it again as if nothing happened.  Then, when you work your way into your late thirties and early forties, you pull muscles simply by sleeping wrong (been there).  Now, it’s quite possible that I’ll have to take a week off work as a result of writing this.  And you’re asking yourself, is it worth it?  Read on, and you can answer that question yourself.

If you have last year’s missive handy, you’ll recall that Sam left for points south in early December.  He rang in the New Year in Mexico City, and then a few weeks later, he went even further south to Viña Del Mar, Chile as a missionary for the church.  Since his arrival in the land of the Chilenos, he’s befriended around 389 cats, and that number increases by the day.  When he’s not busy looking for a feline friend, he’s out among the people serving and sharing.  As of the writing of this year’s little note, he’s been paired up with two dudes from Utah, one from Brazil, and another from Perú.  He and his Brazilian companion were quite a sight to see: Sam, at 6’4” and blonde, doesn’t exactly blend, but his companion was about 4’8” and came to Sam’s elbow.  If they had dressed up for Halloween, Erin suggested they go as Mr. Roark and Tattoo.  Opportunity missed!  Sam will be there for another year.  If you have a photo of a cat, send it to him at samuel.greene@missionary.org - or, if you have a cat that’s having behavioral problems, ship it down to him, and he’ll find a good home for Señor Finickypants.  

One of Jack’s newest hobbies is rock climbing, and he’s taken to it rather well.  He’s developed muscles I didn’t know existed (and I’m fairly certain DON’T exist in my body), which is a testament to something we’ve know about Jack since birth: when he sets his mind on a goal, he stops at nothing to achieve it.  Now, when I see the opening scene from Mission: Impossible II, I picture Jack climbing alongside Tom Cruise and beating him to the top of the rock (one, because he’s THAT determined, and two, he’s not wasting his mental energy trying to make sense of Scientology).  Regardless of my estimation of Jack’s rock climbing abilities, he’s decided to NOT go pro at the moment; in light of that, he had to find a way to make money, so he went to work for an electrician.  In this, he’s also proven an uncanny knack and understanding of the work in short order.  He started out as the low man on the totem pole and had to climb up alone in the attics and crawl spaces of homes when the temperatures were well north of 100 degrees.  Now, he’s supervising guys (and climbing up into attics and crawl spaces with them to show them the ropes - no rest for the weary).  

A short while ago, Erin caught the organizational bug and has thrown herself into a series of projects to purge our home of all clutter and things unneeded.  (I better watch my back.)  With the guidance of a friend who’s been certified in the Marie Kondo system, Erin has been able to chuck out enough old paperwork to keep a shredding service busy until next year.  The folks at the local charity drop off know Erin by name.  As many of you can attest, our home never looked like the set of a reality TV show about hoarders, but with this new outlook on organization, it’s been incredible to see how much crap we don’t have to keep!  And from what Erin’s told me, she’s only about halfway through the list of projects she’s going to conquer.  (I’d like to take a peak at this list and see if my name is on it.)

I’m finishing my second year as a loan originator, and from what I’ve been able to gather from reading pundits’ analyses and watching several different cable programs, I haven’t ruined the mortgage industry or the economy yet.  So I’ve got that going for me . . . and you’re welcome!  In case anyone was wondering, Lola is still alive and kicking (and for those of you who really only cared to know THAT one piece of information, my apologies that I made you wade through all this other muck to get to it).  If you ever find yourself in Arizona (by choice or airline mistake), give us a call, we’d love to see you.  Have a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

An Easter Message: The Value of Women

In John 20, we read the account of the empty sepulchre, and the chapter is not extremely lengthy.  However, what those select words mean to all who consider themselves disciples of Christ is profound, to say the least.   

The messages that stem from this chapter are numerous, but one of the most significant I take from it is the true value of women in the eyes of Jesus Christ and Heavenly Father.  This is only my opinion, and I share it here as such. 

Verse 17 of this chapter begins with this phrase, “Jesus saith unto her, Touch me not; for I am not yet ascended to my Father,” and it is in these few words that I feel volumes are spoken as to how much Jesus valued Mary Magdalene specifically and women overall.  While He was in the midst of putting the crowning touch on His life’s mission and to ascend to His Father to be perfected, He arranged this short but very important and intimate meeting to take place between Him and Mary.  With the foreknowledge that Peter and John would accompany Mary to the garden, He carefully placed Himself somewhere that Peter and John would not see Him and would hurry away in their haste so He could assure that the first person to see Him is a woman, the very Mary Magdalene. 

Even His simple words of “touch me not” convey a deep and abiding respect for this woman – it was not an admonition to forbid her but a reminder that He wanted to see her before He did even one more thing and ascended to complete His mission.  In other words, the grand plan of the Father that had been set in motion since millennia before could wait a few precious moments more so He could speak with Mary, and Mary alone, to deliver His singular message of hope and love. 

In due time, the men of His life would see Him again, but this woman – perhaps representing all women – was not to wait any longer.  And while the world does not give this much thought or accord any importance, this moment in time and in the eternities demonstrates the true value Jesus and the Father give to women.  They do not view women as less than men or as subservient.  Women are equally powerful, important, and vital in the eyes of God.  May the world see what He sees in women and accord due respect and reverence!