"Most men lead lives of quiet desperation and go to the grave with the song still in them." - Henry David Thoreau

Friday, December 31, 2010


First of all, Happy New Year!  Or, as the Chinese refer to it; 'January 1st.'

A few random thoughts...

New Year's resolutions are a total crock. You are only setting yourself up for failure.  If you must have a resolution, make it easy like, "Next year I plan to drink some liquids and breathe regularly."

Not. Gonna. Happen.
Will people ever stop complaining that we still don't have flying cars and jetpacks?  I mean, really...people have enough trouble navigating in two dimensions.  Are we really ready for American drivers to be strapped to machines that can actually crash on to people's houses?  Not a sound plan. 

Want to complain about something?  Just look to BACK TO THE FUTURE, PART II.  Marty went from 1985 to 2015.  That's only four years away!  Are we any closer to HoverBoards, power-lace Nikes and self-sizing jackets?  Nope.  I really want to go to the Cafe 80's for a Pepsi Perfect.  Make it happen!

Another fine example of how movies lied to me.
My hillbilly neighbors are more than likely preparing a full-scale 'Shock and Awe' display of poor firearm safety when the clock strikes midnight.  I'm pretty sure I saw a truck of M9A1 Bazookas being unloaded on their front lawn.  Wonderful.

I have never liked New Year's Eve. More often than not, I had nowhere to go and no one to go there with.  It's almost as bad as Valentine's Day.  At least on V-Day, you're not expected to drink yourself into a vomit-choking stupor.  Just to eat enough candy to induce Type II Diabetes in a few hundred lab rats.
His day will not end well.

Living in New England, I will once again miss out on a wonderful tradition from my childhood;  The Mummers Parade.  I have many fond memories of sitting in front of the TV, watching the string bands and the fancy brigades strut down Broad Street in Philadelphia.  They have nothing similar in Boston except the annual 'Let's Light the Midget in the Leprechaun Suit on Fire and Watch Him Roll On the Ground' Parade.

No, it's not a Gay Pride parade, jerks!
It's natural to reflect on the past twelve months to try to find some greater meaning or insight.  But like any reflection, there are two sides.  There are highs and lows.  I expect much the same next year.  The best you can hope for is that you come out on the other side a little wiser if not worse for wear.  I've always been the type that hopes for the best, but expects the worst.  I don't know how well that attitude has served me over the years, but it's who I am.

I have always been able to define my life by decade.  I was a sheltered, withdrawn child in the 70's, an awkward, unsure teenager in the 80's, a young daydreamer blinded by false promises in the 90's.  I 'grew up' in the 00's, moved from the shiny and attractive, yet ultimately hollow facades of Las Vegas, got married and started a family. 

I have no earthly idea what changes, challenges and surprises this new decade will bring.  As I said before, I am not an optimist by any definition of the word.  For the sake of my daughter, however (who will be fourteen when 2021 rolls around), I will try to look ahead with my eyes wide open instead of behind a dim veil of cynicism. 

I will try...


  1. And so, were you awakened around midnight by the sound of gunfire? Or did you sleep right through it like my husband? I was awoken from my sound sleep at 11:35 by gun shots -- so not only are my neighbors rednecks but they can't even tell time. And as for hating NYE, the best solution I've found is getting married. Now I always have somewhere to be and someone to be with. In bed. At 9:30 PM. Perfectly happy. (Until 11:35, of course.)

  2. Amazingly, the neighborhood was blissfully quiet. The hillbillies must've passed out from moonshine poisoning before midnight.