Scibetta Gazzetta: March 2010

March 29, 2010

Dear Muriel,

I know that you love to hear about family doings so I am taking this opportunity to tell you about a wonderful time we had this past weekend as a result of our children's love and generosity.

Because we are presently inundated with projects and work to do especially related to the upcoming wedding, your dear daughter and I decided to forgo any festivities to commemorate our fortieth anniversary. Apparently our children and their wives felt that this was too big an event to simply allow to pass unnoticed.

Weeks before the date we began to get strange messages in our email. At first we thought they were viruses because they were inviting us to some "never seen and yet never to be repeated" performance, and they were addressed to Elaine's little known but very beautiful middle name Isabelle, and to one of my alias names used only in roll playing, impersonation, or document falsification. So unusual were the cryptic messages that we at once deleted them. However, as the days passed Jordan asked if we were reading our email and encouraged us to look more closely at the messages. We did. We discovered that there were many characters involved in this performance all of whom bore no direct resemblance to ourselves nor to our progeny. But in some uncanny way all these characters were subtly reminiscent of events in our own lives, or they forced images that we projected in our early times together to resurface. Even the names of these characters were unusual yet they hinted of our children's characteristics. One such character was Gonzo who by coincidence was a temporary nick name for Jordan during a period in his life that he was not all together neurologically coherent. Another was Ryan Yeusuf Phillipe, which was a corruption of a flattering name given to Joey during a post pubescent era where he displayed unusually handsome and attractive, totally uncharacteristic qualities.

To get back to the point, we began to get photographs that conveyed a bizarre likeness to us. These images were of people who looked something like we do/did but yet they were not us. Some of them were contrived by apparent masters of photographic retouching and put our likeness into situations where we never were but now appear to have been – like in the company of Roy Orbison himself. We even got authentic looking airline boarding passes for first class transportation to this upcoming event. Strange too was the fact that this play was part of a three day event that we were asked to reserve on our calendar, and the dates included the day marking our fortieth anniversary! It became obvious what the plot was in spite of the fact that all the kids feigned ignorance and advised that we should consult this mysterious "blog" (an information source on the internet that is maintained in an ongoing way so as to be up to date with a particular subject).

When we went to this blog we found only more cryptic messages and very strange images that only served to obfuscate the facts still further. But one thing was for certain, the Scibetta boys and their wives were up to something , and was probably going to be too much fun to miss.

Our suspicions were confirmed. The day of the event arrived. Our doorbell rang, and there to pick us up was Joey and Nicole. They had their gleaming Volvo in the courtyard with the trunk gaping to swallow our luggage whole. Our seats were reserved with little handbags with travelling amenities like slipper sox, ear plugs, lip balm, blindfolds, and vomit sacks (I guess so that with warm feet, we could puke our guts out through shiney lips, not seeing any of the results and not hearing the moans of onlookers). The seat pouches had snack bags with fruit, cookies, cashews, and water bottles. After we "took off" there was beverage service, homemade muffins, and then time to close our eyes and rest, to the sound of the purring engine and the drone of the girls conversation. The two and a half hour drive seemed like only a few minutes to me. The car then left the pavement, no not that way, but we turned on to a gravel road and continued for a few miles as the forest grew more dense and quiet. Signs of human habitation became less frequent as nature's presence began to dominate the scene. We pulled up to a huge log structure. The car stopped and the engine was shut off. The quiet was deafening. Mesmerized by curiosity and obsessed with weeks of anticipation we moved slowly in a trance-like state to the front door. As the door was opened, before our minds could catch up with the things our eyes had just seen, all of our children standing there in the foyer, with their wives, and little Stella, sang out "surpri-is"! Elaine shouted out with glee. I still had not fully tuned in as my upper lip stretched the skin beneath my nose and my lips parted just slightly enough to say humpfh, followed by a big smile of delight at the sight of the eleven people I love the most all standing there with adoration and anticipation written on their beautiful youthful faces. The champagne corks popped. The glasses were filled, and the next few moments were filled with the cacophony of humans happy, excited, giving, loving, and kissing and hugging.

There was a sign saying happy 40th anniversary splayed on the beam supporting the loft above. The theme was about Paris where it all began. The French theme continued throughout the festival adding a note of sentiment and continental elegance to the whole affair. The fire in the giant stone fireplace was blazing, and the smell of baked lasagna was in the air. We were escorted to our quarters where fresh cut flowers added to the beauty of the architecture, the furnishings, and the scenery. Outside of sliding glass doors was a balcony with plush lounge chairs, a suspended swing, and a view of the deep woods seen through the mist and parted by the sight of a serious river moving swiftly over shallow rocks, whispering and mumbling to us "forget all you have to do and just relax, and enjoy". The lodge was no creation by some deranged survivalist hermit communist woodcutter. It was a intelligently designed and carefully crafted log structure capable of housing at least 12 people in luxury with even more than the comforts of home. It had a 22' glass wall looking out to the woods. Even the kitchen was a chef's dream – and Leigh orchestrated activities there like the conductor of a "seasoned" symphony. The food was endless. The drinks kept coming. The place was awash with laughter and gayety for three days.

The "never seen before and never to be repeated" play was a riotous 7 act performance complete with hand painted backdrops, costumes, and makeup. With subtle, and some not so subtle innuendos to our life's experiences, unusual and unique expressions, and depictions of the quirky character traits of their family members, they enacted seven scenes calling to mind heartwarming and hilarious events in our lives before kids, and in the lives that we have lived together as a family with five young men all of whom were so exotic in their behavior as to approach the threshold of eccentricity. (They get it from the Stranne side.) There were restaurant scenes, house scenes, references to articles of clothing, furniture, old suitors, and a whole whiz-bang of clichés. Who would have guessed that their young minds had recorded all that stuff, or that now they would be able to remember all of that. The whole thing was a surrealistic trip down memory lane punctuated with gut busting laughter and warm melancholy.

I knew that you would enjoy hearing about this event. We are looking forward to seeing you at the first opportunity.

Son-in-law

Michael