DaleRussell's Blog

Well, it’s that time of year again. Time to celebrate the holidays with friends and family. Time for mistletoe, eggnog, and Christmas carols. Time for the anti- Christmas letter Christmas letter.

One of my favorite stories the I-team did this year was on the reality show Flip This House. We exposed it as a fraud; the reality was all make believe.

Got me to thinking, what if the Russells were a reality show? Maybe: This House is Flipped. I think we’d be somewhere between Bobby Brown and Whitney Houston and the Osbornes - without the drugs.

Unless you consider wine a drug.

The cameras would capture our darling daughter, jetting off to here, flying away to there, taking part in 19 different weddings, dressing up as a maid of honor, a bridesmaid, a friend of the bride. It wouldn’t surprise me if she had been chosen as the best man at one of these weddings.

We’d see her move back home as her T-shirt company met its demise, as many start ups do, due to lack of capital. We’d see her shopping, traveling, and eating and drinking like one of Henry the VIII’s wives. And we’d hear dear old dad, say: “Honey, this is all great, but have you considered getting a job.”

Now, she has 12 or 13 jobs, I’m not sure. She is director of marketing for wildly successful downtown restaurant. She’s also a licensed realtor who sold 6 houses in the worst housing slump in America since Roosevelt was in office, during her first three months.

And she moved out.

See, even an anti-Christmas letter Christmas letter has room for bragging.

Our son, has moved off of Statesboro’s Most Wanted and you can no longer see his picture at the Post Office. He has now resigned his interactions with police to the constant speeding tickets he acquires driving from Statesboro back home and to his Marines duty.

He’s still a Marine reserve, and what fun we’d have had on the show, when we follow him as he was called up to go to Iraq, with the Mortuary Affairs Unit. (I’m not making this up) Luckily, for everyone, at the last minute, he ended up reassigned to a Light Armored Recon unit out of South Carolina.

He likes the guys, likes the big ole LAV’s they drive (much bigger than Humvees) and is slated to go to Iraq in the Spring. He’s still a student at Georgia Southern and working on his third Freshmen year. I calculated at his rate, he’ll graduate in 2019.

Save your money for those graduation gifts!!!!!

Our reality show will highlight the wonders of the empty nest. Deb and I marvel at the joys. We can’t talk politics, because we don’t agree on anything other than Hillary has really thick ankles. We don’t talk sports, because she doesn‘t like sports. We don’t talk about the kids, because it gives us a headache. So, basically, we don’t talk. She reads. I watch TV. We get together to go out to eat or go to the lake, where we don’t talk about the things we know not to talk about after 28 years.

28 years. Our marriage has lasted longer than that other great reality show - Survivor. And every bit as taxing. She threatens to vote me out of the house once a week.

She did give me Satellite radio for my birthday. Non stop music. No commercials. And she put it in her car. She said, “that’s the one you drive on weekends.” Can’t wait to see what I/she gets for Christmas.

At least, we are aging gracefully: with the help of cosmetics, bioidentical hormones, botox, girdles, wrinkles free products and an occasional work out.

Tipper, the psycho dog from hell, still makes us walk her twice a day. I ordered the Dog Whisperer book to learn how to discipline her. After my first “ssssstttt“, Debbie took the book back and gave Tipper some more fresh deli meat (Tipper likes Boarhead - not Publix) to appease her hurt feelings.

It’s clear who the leader of our pack is.

I gave up. In fact, I give up on this whole reality thing. Our family would be too much for America. I think I’ll try out for Aging American Idols.

We do wish you a Merry Christmas and Happy Hanukah. Thanks for watching “This House is Flipped” - I’m going to go upstairs now and watch the Real Housewives of Orange County.

Now, those are families we can appreciate.