The New Year.
I love the New Year holiday. It’s when things start over. You can go through 12 months of an historic drought, and on New Year’s Day, the average rainfall for the year is either normal or way less than an inch either side of normal. The drought just ends. And we start over. I love it!
Now this may sound strange coming from me. Everything I write is based on something that happened in the past. But I hate looking back. At least when it comes to saying things like, “Man I’m glad that year is over. During my nephew’s wedding last February, I threw up on the maid of honor. In March, my in-grown toenail was so bad the doc amputated. I was falsely imprisoned in August.” Whatever.
Get rid of all the old crap –the poor financial record keeping, the lack of exercise, the cigarettes, the jeans with a hole in the crotch – the attitudes. Get rid of it and move on.
To hell with last year, I say. Let’s look forward. Good things will happen. We can make good things happen. This is our fresh start. AND – the drought is over!
I remember the holiday season of 1972. I was a freshman at the University of North Carolina. Until the fall of that year, I had always been kind of a neat guy.
I did let my hair grow long my senior year of high school. My basketball coach told me one time that a guy sitting behind the bench asked him, “Hey. Who’s that girl playing on your team?” But I kept it combed. It was neat.
When I went away to college, I felt an obligation to sort of rebel in my appearance. Make a statement. I ditched the belt. I wore long sleeve shirts but left the sleeves unbuttoned. I was very rebellious, wasn’t I?
But I also grew a mustache and goatee. I tried for the full beard, but the baby skin left massive hairless and uneven patches on both cheeks. I kind of looked liked a cocker spaniel after a visit to a drunken groomer. So I went for the Mitch Miller look instead.
My Mom hated it. She begged me to shave. She told me before Christmas that all she wanted for Christmas was for me to use a razor. I think I gave her slippers. But at around 11:59pm on December 31, 1972, I used that razor. I should have been watching Guy Lombardo, but I chose to shave. Actually, it was kind of painful. I kept telling myself, “These aren’t nose hairs. Stop crying!” I wiped away the tears and showed my Mom. She loved it. I hated to tell her that I didn’t do it for her. I did it for me. Still she loved it.
It was just time for me to move forward. So, I say – let’s all shave this year. So what if your 401K is now worth less than the sales tax you paid on your new “Cash-For-Clunker” car? So what if you didn’t make it in line in time for a Sarah Palen autograph? So what if your wife caught you flirting with your child’s first grade teacher? That was all last year!
Shave! Move on!
The drought is over!
And – Happy New Year, y’all!