It's Christmas Eve. The gifts are under the tree. The bird is brining. The lamb is marinading. The kids are in bed. Finally a silent night - and a moment to reflect on the last 12 months.
Twenty sixteen was a grim year. Syria and a handful of other places continued to burn. Mid year, the deadliest Ebola outbreak finally ran out of steam but not before ravaging west Africa. Zika said hello. Hackers held organizations and countries hostage. ISIS and Trump exploited the new digital media landscape and won hearts and minds. AIs caused havoc, being unable to distinguish between popularity and truth. Terrorists and drones killed civilians near by and in distant places. Different-ism awoke - we fought those of other color, religion, gender, nationality. On a personal note, bad news about death and sickness among friends came in waves. My dear cat, Crazy, died. So fuck you, 2016.
I could go on. But 'tis the season. There's good news too.
In our little bubble we had a good year. At nine and six, Vivian and sometimes Evan give us glimpses of what their futures may hold and Jo and I are thankful and terrified and hopeful and worried as parents tend to be. Evan has blossomed into a lovable young dude, a voracious reader and vociferous conversationalist, but for various reasons, peace and tranquility continue to elude his teachers. He is an enthusiastic Scout and adores camping and hiking. Vivian has jumped into choir with a surprising gusto and patience and we now drive her places and watch her perform with alarming regularity. I was Vivian's math teacher for the last term and on most weekdays we both love spending an hour or two together walking and talking about numbers and factors and operations and geometry and sometimes String Theory.
Vivian and Evan spread their share of joy and life and hope and we some made wonderful memories during the year. We visited friends and family near and far and were nourished by their love. But we are not unhappy to see 2016 in the rear view mirror.
So we wish you love, happiness, peace, and a big helping of hope in the New Year.
December 24, 2016
Austin, Texas.
Twenty sixteen was a grim year. Syria and a handful of other places continued to burn. Mid year, the deadliest Ebola outbreak finally ran out of steam but not before ravaging west Africa. Zika said hello. Hackers held organizations and countries hostage. ISIS and Trump exploited the new digital media landscape and won hearts and minds. AIs caused havoc, being unable to distinguish between popularity and truth. Terrorists and drones killed civilians near by and in distant places. Different-ism awoke - we fought those of other color, religion, gender, nationality. On a personal note, bad news about death and sickness among friends came in waves. My dear cat, Crazy, died. So fuck you, 2016.
I could go on. But 'tis the season. There's good news too.
In our little bubble we had a good year. At nine and six, Vivian and sometimes Evan give us glimpses of what their futures may hold and Jo and I are thankful and terrified and hopeful and worried as parents tend to be. Evan has blossomed into a lovable young dude, a voracious reader and vociferous conversationalist, but for various reasons, peace and tranquility continue to elude his teachers. He is an enthusiastic Scout and adores camping and hiking. Vivian has jumped into choir with a surprising gusto and patience and we now drive her places and watch her perform with alarming regularity. I was Vivian's math teacher for the last term and on most weekdays we both love spending an hour or two together walking and talking about numbers and factors and operations and geometry and sometimes String Theory.
![]() |
| [Thanks for Bonnie Berry for the photograph https://www.facebook.com/mynameisbonnieberry] |
So we wish you love, happiness, peace, and a big helping of hope in the New Year.
December 24, 2016
Austin, Texas.




















































