This has been a long — and, I’m sorry to say, often depressing — year. It feels as though we’ve gone into extra innings, circling the bases a couple of hundred times, struggling to survive wars, natural disasters, terror attacks, collapsing governments, plane crashes, mass shootings, rampant inflation, more wars, and the loss of far too many good people.

Well, that’s more than enough. We’re finally rounding third base and heading for home: the start of a new year in less than two days. We’re supposed to be looking ahead with optimism and good cheer. After all, simply by reason of the fact that we’re still here, sliding into home plate . . . well, haven’t we already won the game?

Then why all the doom and gloom everywhere? Because it makes news . . . that’s why. These days, if it’s not bad, it’s simply not news. Even my blog has become mostly a commentary on the DOD — “Disaster of the Day” — which means that it too is depressing, by default.

So, as 2024 comes screeching to a halt, I shall — contrary to my earlier promise to myself — make a single New Year’s resolution for 2025: I resolve to dedicate at least one posting per week to something wholly and completely — maybe even nauseatingly — pleasant, cheerful, and most likely apropos of nothing.

No, I’m not giving up on venting my thoughts and feelings about all the chaos on our screwed-up planet. The world isn’t going to change, after all; and I do still need an outlet. But I will hereafter be on a dedicated search for bits and pieces of happiness as well, even if they’re sometimes meaningless or silly. And if I can’t find anything, I’ll just make something up. A limerick, perhaps.

“There once was a girl from Nantucket . . .”

In the meantime, happy Penultimate Day of 2024, everyone.

Just sayin’ . . .

Brendochka
12/30/24