2003-04-03 5:25 p.m.
I wrote this on March 17th, on my way to Sweden. I never got a chance to post it until now.)
Here I am, sitting on the plane from London to San Francisco. The baby sitting next to me has been rather unintrusive on my aural senses, but the fresh feces in its diaper is definitely intruding on my olfactory senses. Oh well. I would rather sit next to piles of baby turds than a pile of high–volume, living, screaming human flesh.
For some reason—maybe lack of sleep or maybe the free intercontinental alcohol offered—I have finally decided to write about my Christmas letters. I had been planning to do this for three months now. (Once again, this is another example of there not being enough time in ANY given day.)
Ok, so here is story: Last Christmas I was pretty broke—I had just financed the first 1/3 of my forthcoming solo album out of my own pocket with only the help of generous family, friends, and my readers. But, surprisingly, being without any extra cash didn't bring about the normal suck factor I expected. In fact, it turned out to be quite a blessing.
Considering my "unique financial situation" (aka being without any excess money at all), I had to keep my holiday spending under $120—an amazing feat considering how many loved ones I look forward to giving gifts to. (Not that the holidays are about gifts. But, the thing is that I think it is great to have an excuse to give presents to some of my favorite people!)
So, instead of store–bought presents, I gave hand–made gifts in the form of hand–written letters. And, when writing the letters I thought about how it's not often enough that we remind our loved ones of how important they are to us. So, I decided that the theme of each of my letters would be what I would want you to know if today was our last day on Earth.
There are some loved ones that I intended to write letters for and ran out of time (When will someone pass a law giving me more hours in each day?), never completed, or never delivered. And there are some that I chose not to share with the public. With the exception of those, these are links to most of the letters I wrote for Christmas.
Normando Montfort (stepdad)
Snookie Montfort (mom)
David Winokur (dad)
Nita Winokur (stepmom)
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