2003
Another year come and gone. Another day, another dollar. A time to sit back and reflect on the gains and the losses. A time for rebirth. A time for dying. Out with the old, in with the new. I never really thought about the clichés before. And I’m not really sure how much they mean to me now. I’ve never been one for New Year’s resolutions. I just can’t seem to grasp the concept. Is the resolution supposed to last a year? Or does it reflect on something longer? So many people and so many empty promises to oneself. If nothing else it makes the gym commercials popular around this time. The nicotine patch becomes a big seller in January. And there’s not another good excuse to get drunk until March.
For some reason though, I’m caught in the moment. I have plans for myself this coming year. I wouldn’t call them resolutions, more of a redirection of sorts. For several years now (more than I care to count) my life has been in a downward spiral. I’m not sure when the avalanche started, but it certainly has picked up steam. An animal will gnaw through its own leg when caught in a trap in an attempt to free itself. And I think that I’ve finally gnawed through my leg. A feeling has been building for quite some time now, and I’ve grown tired of it. The first of the year seems to be just a coincidence. The time has come, and the time is now. If only I could figure out a way to regenerate my leg.
I noticed something tonight. In all my years of going to bars, I have never seen a bar fight on New Year’s Eve. Not even anything close. People seem to be much friendlier with others. Is it bad karma to start of a new year with a fight? Or are people just too tired by now? Maybe it’s because the drunk guys all want to sit around and watch the college football bowl games tomorrow. I don’t know.
I can’t listen to Auld Lang Syne without thinking of Dan Fogelberg’s “Same Auld Lang Syne”. We drank a toast to innocence/ We drank a toast to now/ And tried to reach beyond the emptiness/ But neither one knew how. Such a sad song. Makes you wonder what opportunities you’ve left behind. Reminiscing turns to nostalgia. Nostalgia turns to pain. Sometimes it’s best not to carve those bones.
I’m not exactly sure what I’m supposed to feel around this time. It’s supposed to be such a romantic and magical holiday.
He has another drink. She decides any guy will do. He finally has the courage to talk to the girl. She waits for the cab. He wishes they’d stayed at the other party. She really likes this bar. The band plays on. He’s not sure why he came. She wishes that she were with someone else. The bartender serves up a few more drinks. He really likes the funny hats. She is fascinated by Dick Clark. He doesn’t know how he’s getting home. She misses her friend who’s gone. The line for the bathroom inches forward.
I’m not exactly sure what I’m supposed to feel around this time. Is anyone?
I used to be superstitious as a child. I figured if one year was good, then the next year was bad. It actually worked for awhile. But now I can’t remember if it’s the even or odd years that I like best.
Raise your glass, the time for rambling is over.
Happy New Year.
---Doug
For some reason though, I’m caught in the moment. I have plans for myself this coming year. I wouldn’t call them resolutions, more of a redirection of sorts. For several years now (more than I care to count) my life has been in a downward spiral. I’m not sure when the avalanche started, but it certainly has picked up steam. An animal will gnaw through its own leg when caught in a trap in an attempt to free itself. And I think that I’ve finally gnawed through my leg. A feeling has been building for quite some time now, and I’ve grown tired of it. The first of the year seems to be just a coincidence. The time has come, and the time is now. If only I could figure out a way to regenerate my leg.
I noticed something tonight. In all my years of going to bars, I have never seen a bar fight on New Year’s Eve. Not even anything close. People seem to be much friendlier with others. Is it bad karma to start of a new year with a fight? Or are people just too tired by now? Maybe it’s because the drunk guys all want to sit around and watch the college football bowl games tomorrow. I don’t know.
I can’t listen to Auld Lang Syne without thinking of Dan Fogelberg’s “Same Auld Lang Syne”. We drank a toast to innocence/ We drank a toast to now/ And tried to reach beyond the emptiness/ But neither one knew how. Such a sad song. Makes you wonder what opportunities you’ve left behind. Reminiscing turns to nostalgia. Nostalgia turns to pain. Sometimes it’s best not to carve those bones.
I’m not exactly sure what I’m supposed to feel around this time. It’s supposed to be such a romantic and magical holiday.
He has another drink. She decides any guy will do. He finally has the courage to talk to the girl. She waits for the cab. He wishes they’d stayed at the other party. She really likes this bar. The band plays on. He’s not sure why he came. She wishes that she were with someone else. The bartender serves up a few more drinks. He really likes the funny hats. She is fascinated by Dick Clark. He doesn’t know how he’s getting home. She misses her friend who’s gone. The line for the bathroom inches forward.
I’m not exactly sure what I’m supposed to feel around this time. Is anyone?
I used to be superstitious as a child. I figured if one year was good, then the next year was bad. It actually worked for awhile. But now I can’t remember if it’s the even or odd years that I like best.
Raise your glass, the time for rambling is over.
Happy New Year.
---Doug