22.08.2026
Hey Kid! Well, today’s the day. Everyone is waiting on tenterhooks for you to arrive. I’m not sure how fast we have regressed back into the Dark Ages by the time you read this, so a tenterhook is, according to my Magic Space Phone (do you still have those?) a hook used to fasten cloth on a drying frame or tenter.
Why that became a euphemism for anxiety, I’m not sure. Maybe the “stretched tight” aspect—see also, “the rack,” either from the enchanted fish that swim up and tell you stories of a lost land that sank beneath the waves, or, I don’t know, an on-going demonstration down at the village square. Again, it is really hard to imagine where you are coming from… from here.
I don’t want to give you the wrong impression, the World is a wonderful place, it’s the tenants you have to watch out for. I hope that we have somehow gotten our act together in the interim and these notes are funny reminders of a time that a large portion of your countrypersons kind of lost their minds for a hot minute. If not, ask the enchanted fish about it. They probably find it quite hilarious.
This would be a good time for me to slide you some granduncle-ly advice. Today’s tip is “know your exits.” Try not to enter a space without peeping the best way to leave, if need be, in a hurry. Remind me to tell you the story of when your Grandma and I were almost crushed to death at a Metallica Day on the Green (ask the fish).
That leads me to the second tip: dudes will transcend the laws of physics and get off your neck if you punch them in the balls. I don’t mean that as a euphemism, but you take it however you need to. I hope you never have to use that one, but there you go.
Anyway, I can’t wait to meet you, and upon arrival, try not to judge everyone too harshly. We are kind of all doing our best. Don’t listen to those damned fish.
See you in the funny papers,
Tio-avô Ray
Román Leão 
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