By Patrick F. Cannon

Well, another year has passed, so I thought I’d bring you all up to date on my family as the holidays approach. As usual, there wasn’t a dull moment. First the bad news: old Uncle Abner won’t be with us again this year – the Parole Board turned him down. He didn’t help his case this time when he got caught running a dice game behind the mangles in the laundry and compounded the felony by being caught with loaded dice.

            I guess he’ll have to serve the full sentence, unless he gets smart and lets the screws share in the take. But heck, he’ll only be 70 when he gets out. If he watches his health, he ought to be able to enjoy some of the cash he has stashed away. He still refuses to tell me where it’s hid, despite me telling him inflation is eating away at it, regardless of what that fella Trump says. and I’d be happy to invest it for him. Oh, well, he’s as cantankerous as ever. The color did drain from his face when I told him Amazon was building a new distribution center on that flat land near Dismal Seepage Creek.

            Daisy Mae is pregnant again. Not sure who the father is this time either. As you know, all her kids look just a little different. I call them the rainbow coalition. She’s a worker though. Took an online course in beauty culture, using money borrowed from the government. She says no one ever pays off them loans, so it’s like a free education. Aren’t these young folks smart? Anyway, she’s got everyone in the holler sporting green, red, purple, or pink hair (even yours truly).  

            As you know, young Georgie is in the army. He made it all the way to corporal before he got busted back to private for drinking on duty. At least they didn’t give him a dishonorable discharge like his brother Amos. I guess they treat drunkenness and attempted murder different. Anyway, he’s determined to stick it out for 30 years and retire so’s he can be the richest man in Dog Patch.

            You probably heard that Aunt Nellie got married again. You kinda lose track, but I think this might be number seven. I’m sure it’s just a coincidence that her former husbands all died suddenly.  At least they all left her some money. Maybe she’ll have better luck this time. Last year’s new husband looked healthy enough, but I guess he was on the clumsy side; he managed to fall off the balcony in that luxury Miami condo he bought her as a wedding present. Her new hubby is the building maintenance man, so that should be handy for her. Lately, he’s looking a bit peeked; maybe it’s that Covid thing again.

            I’m proud that the family remains on the cutting edge of social change. Cousin Charlie announced that he was changing his name to Charlene. Guess we’ll all have to bone up on our pronouns. I suggested to Charlene that the beard might be considered odd for a lady, but he’s (she’s?) quite fond of it, reminding me that the carnival that comes through town still features a bearded lady. So, it looks like a career change might be in the offing too.

            I’m sure you’ve seen all those stories about son Ralphie. As you know, he’s the only member of the family to graduate from college – and Harvard no less. He’d already graduated by the time they found out he’d phonied up his transcripts and ACT scores to get in, and by then were too embarrassed to go public. Ralphie says the trick is to get in. After that you don’t have to do much, since they think you’re already smart enough.

            Anyway, Ralphie’s now got the record for the greatest Ponzi scheme in history. Unlike old Madoff, he got away to Russia with the dough before it was discovered, so all that education sure paid off.  That picture of him and Putin riding those white horses bare-chested made all the papers. Funny though, when we tried to get a passport to visit him, we got turned down. I complained to our congressman, and he told me he was surprised too, since he thought they would be happy to see us leave the country. Not sure what he meant by that. Anyway, we might not need to go to Russia. Ralphie tells me  he’s being considered for a pardon by President Trump and may also be in line for Secretary of War if that fella Hegseth gets fired.

            I hope you won’t believe that story about wife Rosie being found naked with the preacher. She told me it was just a new way of praying; something about going back to the innocence of Adam and Eve before they ate the apple. She said it made her feel so good she might try it again.

            As for me, my run for Congress didn’t work out so good. I thought for sure having President Trump’s endorsement would do the trick, but those crooked Democrats foiled me by going to the polls and voting. I was wrongly criticized for not having any political experience, which I thought was a plus. I also thought it was unfair to bring up those accusations of sexual misconduct, especially since the statute of limitations had already expired.

            Anyway, if the president of the United States can play grab (censored), why not your humble servant? I guess I’ll just have to go back to selling used cars salvaged from the recent hurricanes. I always hate to see stuff go to waste. Of course, if my new book, Hillbilly Theology, takes off like my publisher thinks it might, I understand a senate seat might come open!

            My brother Caleb says he won’t be attending any of the family’s Christmas gatherings again this year. Says he can’t afford to, since he claims I borrowed $5,000 from him some years back and never paid him back. He’s the eldest you know, and it’s sad to see his memory starting to fail him.

            Well, that’s all for this year. You have a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year. As for me, I can’t wait to see what the future has in store for the Yokum family.

Copyright 2025, Patrick F. Cannon