Every office I've called this morning is closed today so I think I will be too after I post this and maybe a video link.
I hope you had a nice Christmas. Actually, these days, I find it more realistic to say I hope you didn't have a painful, emotional-in-a-bad-way Christmas. Despite what Andy Williams used to sing, I don't think this is The Most Wonderful Time of the Year for most people. There may be parties for hosting and marshmallows for toasting, but there's also a lot of family problems bubbling to the surface, folks who are depressed because they're alone, others who are depressed because they're not alone, and financial problems because Christmas can be damned expensive.
Hope that wasn't your holiday and that if it was, you're past it for another year. Now you can put your whole attention towards being glad 2016 is almost over and hoping 2017 is better. Given that even my Trump-voting friends think he'll create enormous problems and partisan divides, I ain't all that optimistic.
Last night around 7 PM, I found myself in a restaurant ordering a "to go" order to take to a sick friend. The restaurant was packed and if I'd asked for a table, I might be getting seated right about now. It was so crowded in there that when the hostess said my order would take at least 30 minutes, I told her I'd be back in twenty and was going for a walk.
This was not in the nicest part of town but I felt safe. There were people on the street who looked like they'd be a lot easier and more lucrative to mug than me. One of them approached me and asked if I could spare a buck or two for food. As I fished around in my pocket for some cash, the gentleman said "I hope next year is better," which of course everyone hopes. I said, "It can't help but be," which of course is not true but you say it anyway. I was just handing the guy a few singles when suddenly, one firework exploded in the sky.
Only one. You've all seen those big displays where they fire off dozens and dozens, one right after another, the pace quickening until at last they start overlapping. Well, from some location a mile or so away, someone set off just one of those, followed by no others.
We waited about a minute to see if more would follow and when none did, I said to him, "Guess we'll have to settle for that." He said, "Don't worry. There'll be more fireworks in 2017." I said something about how we could count on that, one way or the other and —
Oh, shit. Steve Stoliar just e-mailed me that George S. Irving has died. Guess I have to post an obit there about him. I think I know what the video link's going to be.
Is there any way we can move up the end of 2016 a few days? It's getting so those montages shouldn't be "Those Who Left Us" but rather "Those We Have Left."