Toodle-loo, '22!

This year, a show called Reboot premiered on Hulu. It's quite good actually, all about a revival of a supposedly beloved TV sit-com and I highly recommend it. However, the concept pretty much sums up the year 2022 for me. It all felt like a reboot. Look what happened. Inflation, the overturning of Roe v. Wade,  another uselessly overblown mid-term elections which don't mean thing since neither side got much swing, the Russians taking a u-turn for the worst as our favorite villains of the modern age and bringing with them the threat of nuclear war and so one and so frigging forth. Yep, a reboot...and like most of them, not as good as the original.

I suppose it's what we should have expected as we struggle to find our way out of the Neverending Story known as the bloody Pandemic. We lost so much ground and haven't gained much back in return. Two steps forward, one step back. (Thank you, Paula Abdul) More often than not, the numbers are reversed. When are we ever going get back up where we belong? (When am I going to stop referencing pop songs to make a point?) The world is wound so tightly that it's a only a matter of time when it breaks down altogether. Again.

So what to do, kids? Well, it is that time of year (you know, the end?) when we think that a change of the calendar will wipe the slate clean and we can start fresh once more. And after a few weeks, sometimes merely days, we come to the realization that we're just fooling ourselves. Why else do we make resolutions that we don't keep? Sunday ain't gonna be much different than last Sunday, let alone the day before. It hurts to be futile about the future.

Is it hope? Is this all we have left to hang everything upon? Faith? Are we so obstinate that we won't give in no matter what? Or, plain and simply, are we all clueless?

All of the above. And I'm right there beside you because I'm guilty of the same. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. Fool me every single time...aw, leave me alone...

But right when I'm ready to surrender to the onslaught of negativity and find myself searching for a permanent home amongst the downtrodden, I slam on the brakes, dropping all pretense and recall the words my four year old granddaughter Athena bestowed upon me on our last visit to Denver.

"Whenever I have a bad time, I tell myself to get over it and I move on."

Four years old. 

Yesterday on my drive home, I listened to a song from someone I am proud to call my friend, the brilliant singer/songwriter Grant-Lee Phillips  That tune, "Walking in the Green Corn", the title track from the album of the same name, sums it all up for how I am entering 2023. Yep, another song reference, but this time with a purpose. 

I'm going in, ready to combat whatever comes my way with every bit of optimism and hope that I can muster up. After all, in order to thrive, you first have to survive and I'm in it for the long haul. 

What do I think will happen in 2023?

Who knows? I sure don't.

Time will tell.