I was tempted to backdate this letter, but I decided to be honest(ish) instead. I won’t write you a letter every Friday. I’ll try not to miss more than one or two weeks at the most. I don’t want to write you just for the hell of it, you know? I want to have something to say, which isn’t an issue most of the time.
Last Friday, Coldon & Brandy Martin came to visit us from Richmond, Virginia. Coldon and I, along with Todd Michael Schultz, Dagur Jóhannsson, Davíð Páll Svavarsson, Baltasar Breki Samper, produce The Bret Easton Ellis Podcast Book Club, a livestream discussing Bret Easton Ellis’s body of work from Less Than Zero to The Shards (currently released as an audiobook, chapter-by-chapter through his podcast). One of the inspirations for your name comes from American Psycho, Bret’s third novel.
I say “One of the inspirations” because your mother (my wife) believes it was a combination of my notes for the book club I had scattered across the bed and her listening to the musical duo from Manchester, Hurts. They have a song titled “Evelyn.” Despite what you will hear about American Psycho (is it still a cultural reference point?), the novel does give you a substantial list of outfits to try out:
“Evelyn stands by a blond wood counter wearing a Krizia cream silk blouse, a Krizia rust tweed skirt and the same pair of silk-satin d’Orsay pumps Courtney has on.”
Surely, a little glamour will still be appreciated, right? Or do these look ridiculous? How do people dress now? I mean the book was published in 1991…thirty years before you born…but still…somethings are timeless, aren’t they? Fashion has gone in cycles my whole life. I’m currently living (2021) through yet another phase of flared pants, inspired by the late 1990s-early 2000s, which really came from the late 1960s early 1970s…you get the point.
But where does “Friday” come from? It sounds nice, doesn’t it? Evelyn Friday. Evelyn Friday. Evelyn Friday! It also looks great written down. I don’t care how digital everything is for you. Learn handwriting. You think different than when you type and it’s worth it. Your mind and your body are connected. Enjoy both as much as possible. But I will explain Friday in the next letter. Can you guess?
But wait! What about the trip?
You and I, your mom (my wife), your brothers (Eldur and Rökkvi), are all travelling to Cabos San Lucas to spend Christmas and New Years with my brother, Tim, and my cousin, Karen, and her husband, Chris, and their daughter, Elladee. The distance between Reykjavik and Cabo San Lucas is 7,628 km. The circumference of the earth is 40,075 km. You were 51.5 cm when you were born and if you were born with the ability to somersault, it would take roughly 15,000,000 somersaults to get to Cabo from Reykjavik–not to mention the ability to walk on water and calm seas.
The flights from Reykjavik to Cabo would total around 38 hours in total with layovers and connections. We didn’t think it would be fun to travel with a four-month-old (you)–even with the help of your angelic brothers. Your mother and I decided to turn this into a slow trip, allowing me to work along the way and giving you and your brothers and chance to see things they’ve never seen before. We are flying to Boston, Massachusetts directly from Iceland, which is less than 6 hours flight time, and slowly work our way to Cabo San Lucas, Mexico.
You will see:
New York City
New Orleans, Louisiana
Los Angeles, California
You’re going to see so many things that you won’t remember. But don’t worry. Photos will be taken. Videos will be shot. Notes will be jotted. My only worry is how you’ll handle the snort of whiskey over Faulkner’s grave in Mississippi. Perhaps you’ll have to wait until your older to pay your respects. I’ve read you his only children’s book, The Wishing Tree. Have you read anything else by him? If you end up reading To Kill A Mockingbird by Harper Lee, you must pick up Faulkner’s Intruder In The Dust.
I have a copy if you want to borrow it.