Christmas 2023

Dear Family and Friends,

This year has run away like an old mare who gets a whiff of the glue factory. Which is what Nancy does when she hears the words “forest” and “lawn” in the same sentence. For example, Joe: “Honey, I just put up a forest of holiday inflatables on our lawn.” Nancy’s response: “I bet Forest Lawn has a place for an overly inflated ego…”

This year the Franklins started with a trip to Vietnam. They arrived on the Tet New Year, the biggest and most important festival in Vietnamese culture. At Joe and Nancy’s hotel, this “biggliest” of celebrations translated to a scantily leather-clad couple dancing desultorily while jet-lagged hotel patrons tried to avert their bewildered eyes. Nancy muttered that maybe Joe shouldn’t have mistaken the hotel’s star rating for the Vietnamese flag.

Vietnam is noted for several things—inexpensive massages, for one. Joe sometimes got up to three a day. Everything was massaged except his ego, for which the Vietnamese charged extra. Unfortunately for Joe, Nancy had already taken all of his “extra” for shopping.

The Vietnamese are also noted for their traffic. Stepping off a curb in Vietnam is reminiscent of that scene in Raiders of the Lost Ark in which Indiana Jones has to take a “leap of faith” onto an invisible bridge over a vast gorge. Like Indie, Nancy would affix her gaze on a spot on the opposite side of the street (any store that took VISA) step off the curb, and walk, transfixed, to the other side, scooters whipping around her like angry hornets, only inches away from an international incident requiring medical evacuation. Luckily, neither Nancy nor Joe’s bowels needed to be “evacuated.”

.Although Joe kept saying “I had no idea so many stores would be closed during Tet!” Nancy didn’t believe him. She managed to find one store open selling silk lanterns. She brought a suitcase full of them home with her all the while mumbling something about Diogenes and looking for an honest man who doesn’t lie about store closures.  

Jimmy, still living in North Carolina, grew a beard this year and now looks like a somewhat younger Yosemite Sam. He left the Marine Corps for a civilian job that affords him the ability to buy more “big boy toys.” He and his wife are now their own Christmas carol: 

 6 hens a-layin’, 5 fishing poles, a 4-wheel drive truck, 3 hunting guns, 2 outdoor sheds, and deer burgers in the free-zer!

The grandkids, Maci (9), Caroline (7) and Liam (4) are doing well. The girls have continued taking equestrian lessons or, as Jimmy likes to remind his parents, “the only sport more expensive than recreational crack cocaine use.”

The two girls, now old enough to fly as unaccompanied minors, visited their grandparents for two glorious weeks this past summer. Maci had a full 5 hours on the flight to LAX to tell all the flight attendants her life story. This might explain the quizzical looks by the entire flight crew when they turned the girls over to Joe and Nancy upon their arrival.

After two weeks of “house haboob”—sand in crotches, sand in the car, sand in the dryer, sand in the shower, sand in their beds, and Disneyland—Nancy and Joe couldn’t string together complete sentences.

 NANTS INGONYAMA BAKITHI BA-BA!

Remember that? That’s the opening chant to The Lion King. Translated from Zulu, it means “Here comes the lion, father. Oh yes, it’s a lion!” Know what it means to the Franklins on the savannas of Kenya? It means “Oh shit, we’re dessert!”

That’s right. This year’s big adventure was Joe, Nancy, and Nancy’s emotional shopping-support animal, Taylor, traveling to Africa. Due to current regional disagreements, they had to cancel a visit to Cairo. Just as well; Nancy felt that, no matter how well-preserved she would be, it might be better to make it home than spend eternal rest as a mummy inside one of the pyramids.

Instead, the Franklins extended a flight layover in Qatar. While there, they ransacked the souk, held falcons, rode camels, and participated in something called “dune bashing.” Dune bashing, for the uninitiated, is where you sit inside a Toyota Tundra while your driver (a term Joe used loosely) throws caution, your bowels, and the Tundra over a high, steep dune cliff causing you to slither sideways down the side of the dune. This throws all kinds of sand…and vomit…around. After untangling their intestines, the Franklins continued to Kenya.

First stop, Giraffe Manor, where you have afternoon tea and breakfast with Rothschild’s giraffes. The giraffes are very well-mannered and eat right out of your hands. If you’re lucky enough, you can wake up and throw the curtains apart to catch the sunrise and get the scat scared out of you when a giraffe sticks his head through your window looking for a morning snack.

After Giraffe Manor, the Franklins headed to their safaris. The first night, Taylor spotted a red spitting cobra. Nancy and Joe were thrilled because the snake seemed so much more personable than Taylor’s recent dates.

Fun fact about Africa: Most of the animal noises you hear out on the savanna come from birds. That’s because the OTHER animals need to be quiet when sneaking up on their prey which is, in this case, the Franklins. More fun facts: In some African tribes, your daughters can be traded for goats and beads. The Franklin’s guides estimated Taylor’s worth to be as high as 15 goats and several pounds of beads. Nancy and Joe decided to bring Taylor home anyway as the value of her job at the Westin LAX gives them more “friends and family” benefits than a herd of goats would to a household of lactose-intolerant elderly folks.

Many of you faithful readers will remember that some 20+ years ago, Nancy had referred to the wildlife in Costa Rica as God’s “Pick-A-Part” lot. She also referred to Costa Rica, as well as Australia, as having “everything that can kill you.” She was wrong. Africa has everything that can kill you. In fact, you sign waivers at each camp that enumerate your understanding that everything in Africa can kill you. You will not walk outside at night without an armed escort lest you become a carnivore’s hors d’oeuvre. You will not dip your toe in the river lest a crocodile take your foot off. You will not leave your tent unzipped unless you want your belongings, and you, pillaged by marauding monkeys. About the time you say “You’re kidding, right?” the escort with the AK-47 saunters by.

Nancy became forever catatonic when she saw a mongoose; in her mind, it meant there were SO MANY SNAKES that the mongoose found the camp a veritable smorgasbord.

When you’re on safari, you ride in 4-wheel-drive Jeeps, open to the elements. This is not comfortable. It’s spine-tingling. And not just because you’re up close and personal with many things that can kill you. It’s because you’re NOT ON A ROAD. It’s like a game of spine Jenga. And let’s not mention what it does to your bladder.

You can ride into the savanna twice a day—early morning and late afternoon. Your guides will tell you this is because the animals are most active during those times. Of course, they are. The animals are looking for food. To the lions, your Jeep is Uber Eats.

During the morning game drive, the guides will stop the Jeep in some inexplicitly remote place and start unpacking a table, chairs, and food for your breakfast. They will encourage you to sit down and admire the vastness of the plains while eating a solid meal of eggs, bacon, or breakfast sandwiches whose odors waft into the nostrils of every carnivore for miles around. Your guides, of course, have discreetly moved away from your table to the far end of the Jeep, claiming to be ready to save you from a cheetah. Then they laugh and say neither of them is faster than a cheetah. Did you know a cheetah can go from 0 to 60 MPH in just under three seconds? You can almost hear the cheetahs asking each other, “Hey, did you order DoorDash?” “Not me, but dibs on the older one who looks like she hasn’t broken a sweat since she retired!”

Your guides reverse this for your afternoon game drive, finishing up your safari with a little thing called a “sundowner.” This is where you find some glorious vista, and watch the sun go down while sipping the adult beverage of your choice. Nancy would tell you that “sundowning,” in the healthcare sense, is a set of symptoms that may include anxiety, agitation, hallucinations, pacing, and disorientation. It generally affects the elderly. Or people who are OUT ON THE SAVANNA, AT DUSK, WHEN THE PREDATORS ARE OUT! No wonder they ply you with drinks.

Every time you come back from your game drives, the entire staff is lined up at the lobby entrance. As you pull up everyone cheers, “JAMBO!” which the Franklins took to mean “Congratulations! You made it back alive!”

There were lots of jokes about which Franklin was going to be the “small plate” appetizer on any given day. Joe could be heard saying all he had to do was outrun Nancy. Taylor said all she had to do was outrun Nancy. Nancy said all she had to do was sit on a stool at the lodge bar with her VISA card and access to the lodge’s gift shop and spa while the other two took their chances in the Jeep on the savanna.

Joe fulfilled his safari dream: Galloping on horseback with a herd of zebra, even though he compared riding English style to pounding the old “nutmeats” out of their shells. This was a lot of fun for Nancy and Taylor until the Franklins were intercepted and informed that a pack of lions had just made a kill near where the Franklins were riding. Out of an abundance of caution, the horses, who are WAAAYYY more valuable than the tourists, were taken back to the stables while the Franklins were escorted directly to the kill site.

There’s something indescribable about seeing lions on a kill. Something primal and majestic that flows through you. Like fear. Or pee. Particularly when one of those lions meanders away from the kill and towards your open-sided Jeep, a mere 10 feet away. Just ask Joe. It is not reassuring to hear your guide say “They’re full. They’re not interested in you,” when the Franklins know there’s always room for dessert!

And did we mention Nancy’s shopping extravaganza? Entering an African craft shop in a remote corner of Nairobi, Nancy managed to hone in on a set of large, rubber giraffes that she couldn’t live without. She sent a picture home to her sisters, one of whom couldn’t live without them, either. And that’s how Nancy came to carry, through airports and customs, two bubble and tape-wrapped packages the size of mummies. Only one customs agent asked Nancy what was in them, to which Joe muttered, “Not her, unfortunately.”

Joe and Nancy finished out this year with a trip back to North Carolina, taking the three “grands” to Carolina Beach for some quality holiday time with “Meemo” and “Gampa.” After the youngest spilled a full bottle of Fanta on the hotel quilt; the middle child spilled syrup into the air conditioner; and the eldest, whose nose was bubbling and leaking like she had shoved a green bath bomb up it, said she was feeling sick, Joe and Nancy threw caution to the wind (which was picking up considerably due to a major tropical storm barreling up the coast) and loaded the kids into the car for a frantic, late night drive back to their parents’ house.

And so, as this year comes to an end, Nancy would like to remind you that Joe becomes Mayor of Manhattan Beach on January 9, 2024. There’s still time for those of you in town to relocate. Remember, as well, that when Joe becomes Mayor, Nancy becomes First Lady. Good times ahead. The Franklins remain thankful for their health, the opportunities to travel, being able to serve Manhattan Beach, and for supportive friends and family like you.

May you have peace, love, good fortune, and good health in 2024!

The Franklins—Joe and Nancy with Jimmy, Taylor, Christie, Maci, Caroline, and Liam