Dear Friends, Family, and Co-Workers,

Happy holidays to everyone. We hope that this letter finds you well, warm and wonderful. It's been quite the year, and we would like to take this moment to update our loved ones on what the Lindquists-Mark, Donna, Mark Jr. and Javier-have been up to in 2004.
To quickly answer the question that we're sure is on everyone's mind concerning Mark: Yes, the rash has started to recede. Though it has puzzled doctors since April; the strange blistering red blotches turned out not to be contagious. And just as mysteriously it started to spread from his stomach to his face and hands, the rash has receded back to a small spot above his naval. The Lindquists pride themselves on good health, so it goes without saying that this comes as quite a relief.
Our lovely wife and mother, Donna, spent most of 2004 traveling Central and South America for her new job. We joke that medical pharmaceuticals are so expensive because they have to pay for all of Donna's trips to Columbia, Mexico, Jamaica, Panama, Nicaragua, Bolivia, Haiti and, oddly enough, Cuba. We miss her dearly when she's on the road, but she calls home everyday. What a treat that she's back in the kitchen for Thanksgiving and Christmas. But as soon as the New Year arrives, Donna says her employers are sending her to Hong Kong, Thailand, and the scenic poppy country of the new Afghanistan. What a worldly woman and a great mother!
Also, we like ask our friends and family that if they receive subpoenas regarding Donna's income tax situation, please consult our own family attorneys before answering any questions on record.
Mark Jr. (or as he likes to be called: Susan) plans to use his holiday vacation to hit the books, so he can finally get through the eighth grade. We're confident he won't make it three years in a row. Let's all cross our fingers. Mark Jr. says he likes Home Economics the best and wants to grow up to sew dresses for overweight women. Now that's a little guy with a big plan! We'll just have to see if Santa brings him that paisley fabric he's wanted for so long.
We would like to take this opportunity to ask you to please speak with discretion concerning Mark Jr.'s swim team incident. It's over and done with. Our family and the victim's family have all moved on after much hard work in counseling and the courtroom.
As most of you know, Donna brought a beautiful blessing into the family after one of her trips to Columbia. Javier turns three years old on Dec. 27. Or so the paper work says. We've officially adopted him and love him like any other Lindquist. He's a tough little guy that didn't have much of a chance in the poverty-ridden shanties in Bogota. But the good Lord brought him into our lives and we hope to provide him with a healthy and happy home. Santa might have a soccer ball waiting for him under the tree this year. Mark plans to enroll Javier into an intense soccer training camp next June. He might seem a little young for that kind of thing, but you know how much Mark wants another athlete in the family. And Donna does claim that Javier's dad played mid-field for a Colombian traveling semi-pro team before he went to jail where he was unfortunately tortured and executed. Donna says he had the most muscular legs she's ever had the pleasure of experiencing. Let's hope that doesn't skip a generation.
The Lindquists would like to extend our warmest wishes and happiest thoughts to all our friends and family for the Holiday Season.

© Mark Lindquist

I have a soft spot in my cold black heart for the couple of weeks before Christmas. Normally, I wouldn't hold any reverence for the sheep that make up this polluted community decorating their over-groomed front yards with illuminated Wal-Mart crap to celebrate a holiday. But Christmas time brings out the once hopeful spirit of an American youth in me. I think it all goes back to when I received a Pittsburgh Steelers electric football game from Santa. As an eight-year-old in 1978, a vibrating sheet of metal with tiny black and gold plastic figurines was as cool as any X-Box today. I still dust that toy off from time to time in drunken stupors just to entertain myself during down times.

However, since that Christmas morning twenty-six years ago, I haven't really received a gift to match the magic of my electric football game. Long underwear, socks, crappy sweaters, vodka, and cigarettes make up what I carry home in grocery bags on Dec. 24th. How exciting! "Thanks for the black dress socks I would never even give to a hobo! Thanks for the carton of Marlboros that will eventually kill me someday." The gift giving in my family and circle of friends sucks, but I still find a weird joy during Christmas.

None of my immediate family has squeezed out any rugrats either. No babies have made their way into the Lindquist holiday gatherings. We once received a postcard picture of a cousin's baby. We treated that picture like the baby Jesus himself. I thought my grandmother was going to save a place at the table for that picture of a baby. I think that Christmas would have so much more to offer if a bunch of little brats were spazzing out around my tree.

That's probably the secret why I still enjoy it all. I don't have to cater to anyone's kids, I don't need to feel the pressure expensive gift giving, and I still own the one toy that ever meant anything to me. Come Christmas day, all I have to do is show up, eat, get drunk, sing some cool songs, and go home to a very quiet house to play with my electric football game.

© Mark Lindquist