Dear Friends and Clients,
It's been many years since we've sent out our family update. One thing that's become ever so obvious to me since then-- Each year I've gotten older. In fact, this is as old as I've ever been. I had a birthday last year-- I try to have one each year-- and there were well over 50 candles on the cake, and that was the piece I had. I couldn't blow them all out. The heat kept driving me back.
I had a recent epiphany about my age. I looked at my driver's license and thought, “You know, that's not a bad picture.” These days my pictures don't do me justice. They are looking more and more like me.
Nine of the kids are out of the house. Two are in Germany (Army) and one in Rhode Island (Navy contractor). How far do they think they have to go to put enough distance between them and mom and pop? Wouldn't Indiana be far enough?
When our last child leaves, Randi and I will be enrolled in a Parent Protection Program. Our identities will be altered, and we will be re-located off the grid somewhere in Northern Montana. It should take any child at least a week to find us.
Now that the kids are raised, Randi and I are having to learn to communicate with each other better. Not that it's been all that easy. She tells me that I need to listen more, or something like that. Last night, she asked, “Are you even listening to me?” I thought, “That's a funny way to start a conversation.”
I'll confess, I do need to be a more empathetic listener, even when I'm not getting paid to be. The other day I saw a note on the refrigerator from Randi that said, “This isn't working as well as I'd hoped. We need to make some changes.” So I opened the door, the light came on, the beer was cold; What was she talking about?
I'm working at it. I was reading one of those “Spice Up Your Marriage” books, and it said to take time to re-live our very first date. So I took Randi horse back riding, and we had a ball until I ran out of quarters
I'm moving toward semi-retirement and have decided to cut my workload in half. Starting January 1, I will nod sensitively with clients every eight minutes instead of every four. And any “I see. Tell me more” will be an extra charge.
My therapist just recently asked me, “Don't you think you might be getting a bit C.D.O?” Actually, he said O.C.D, but I had to put the letters in the right order.
Speaking of semi-retirement, it's about time Randi starts to work for a living. I always suspected she was hiding behind raising and homeschooling ten children, but what's her justification now? Just because she's getting Social Security doesn't mean she can't do a little more around here besides push mowing an acre lawn (It does take her longer, I've noticed), volunteering with old folks (not me), keeping up the house, yard, cars, roof, and snow removal. Still, she does have more extra time, so I'm setting up interviews with Ben's Brickyard, Di Angelo's Cement Contractors, and the county's pavement crew. Work ethic is a virtue, I've reminded her.
Speaking of virtue, I'm back in training for the 2022 Catholic Radio's Rayaissance Humility Competition, (Yes, they changed the name for me) after dominating the award from 2010-2015. The secret to winning is not showing up to collect the trophy. If you do, you automatically lose it. Tricky stuff, this humility.
Here is the poem I'm entering for this year's virtue competition:
I'm also working on sounding smarter on the radio show, so I'm using bigger words that I don't always understand so I can sound more ambidextrous.
Perhaps the most exciting piece of career news for me is a chance for my dream job--a syndicated advice columnist. First I had to be screened by the syndicate. They sent me a sample letter so I could demonstrate my psychological chops. Here's the letter:
Dear Dr. Ray,
The other day I set off for work. I hadn't gone more than a mile when my engine conked out and my car shuddered to a halt. I walked back home, only to find my husband sitting at the kitchen table clearly enamored with our neighbor lady. I love him very much, but I don't know if I can trust him.
Sincerely,
Hurt and Insecure
My advice:
Dear Hurt and Insecure,
A car stalling can be caused by a variety of faults with the engine. Check that there is no debris in the fuel line. If it's clear, check the jubilee clips holding the vacuum pipes onto the inlet manifold. Or it could be that the fuel pump itself is faulty, causing low delivery pressure to the carburetor float chamber .
Hope this helps,
Dr. Ray
I haven't heard back from them yet, and I sent this in 2019. I suspect they are still gathering interested papers. That takes time, I've heard.
Well, that's our update for this year. Once Randi types this, we'll send it out.
Merry and Blessed Christmas to you all, or if you prefer, Jolly Winter Solstice.
Ray and Randi
Nine of the kids are out of the house. Two are in Germany (Army) and one in Rhode Island (Navy contractor). How far do they think they have to go to put enough distance between them and mom and pop? Wouldn't Indiana be far enough?
When our last child leaves, Randi and I will be enrolled in a Parent Protection Program. Our identities will be altered, and we will be re-located off the grid somewhere in Northern Montana. It should take any child at least a week to find us.
Now that the kids are raised, Randi and I are having to learn to communicate with each other better. Not that it's been all that easy. She tells me that I need to listen more, or something like that. Last night, she asked, “Are you even listening to me?” I thought, “That's a funny way to start a conversation.”
I'll confess, I do need to be a more empathetic listener, even when I'm not getting paid to be. The other day I saw a note on the refrigerator from Randi that said, “This isn't working as well as I'd hoped. We need to make some changes.” So I opened the door, the light came on, the beer was cold; What was she talking about?
I'm working at it. I was reading one of those “Spice Up Your Marriage” books, and it said to take time to re-live our very first date. So I took Randi horse back riding, and we had a ball until I ran out of quarters
I'm moving toward semi-retirement and have decided to cut my workload in half. Starting January 1, I will nod sensitively with clients every eight minutes instead of every four. And any “I see. Tell me more” will be an extra charge.
My therapist just recently asked me, “Don't you think you might be getting a bit C.D.O?” Actually, he said O.C.D, but I had to put the letters in the right order.
Speaking of semi-retirement, it's about time Randi starts to work for a living. I always suspected she was hiding behind raising and homeschooling ten children, but what's her justification now? Just because she's getting Social Security doesn't mean she can't do a little more around here besides push mowing an acre lawn (It does take her longer, I've noticed), volunteering with old folks (not me), keeping up the house, yard, cars, roof, and snow removal. Still, she does have more extra time, so I'm setting up interviews with Ben's Brickyard, Di Angelo's Cement Contractors, and the county's pavement crew. Work ethic is a virtue, I've reminded her.
Speaking of virtue, I'm back in training for the 2022 Catholic Radio's Rayaissance Humility Competition, (Yes, they changed the name for me) after dominating the award from 2010-2015. The secret to winning is not showing up to collect the trophy. If you do, you automatically lose it. Tricky stuff, this humility.
Here is the poem I'm entering for this year's virtue competition:
I want to be famous,Piggybacking on this is the release of my latest book, “The Three Most Humble People I Know And How I Taught The Other Two.”
So I can be humble about being famous.
What good is my humility
When I'm stuck in this obscurity?
I'm also working on sounding smarter on the radio show, so I'm using bigger words that I don't always understand so I can sound more ambidextrous.
Perhaps the most exciting piece of career news for me is a chance for my dream job--a syndicated advice columnist. First I had to be screened by the syndicate. They sent me a sample letter so I could demonstrate my psychological chops. Here's the letter:
Dear Dr. Ray,
The other day I set off for work. I hadn't gone more than a mile when my engine conked out and my car shuddered to a halt. I walked back home, only to find my husband sitting at the kitchen table clearly enamored with our neighbor lady. I love him very much, but I don't know if I can trust him.
Sincerely,
Hurt and Insecure
My advice:
Dear Hurt and Insecure,
A car stalling can be caused by a variety of faults with the engine. Check that there is no debris in the fuel line. If it's clear, check the jubilee clips holding the vacuum pipes onto the inlet manifold. Or it could be that the fuel pump itself is faulty, causing low delivery pressure to the carburetor float chamber .
Hope this helps,
Dr. Ray
I haven't heard back from them yet, and I sent this in 2019. I suspect they are still gathering interested papers. That takes time, I've heard.
Well, that's our update for this year. Once Randi types this, we'll send it out.
Merry and Blessed Christmas to you all, or if you prefer, Jolly Winter Solstice.
Ray and Randi
