2018 Begins

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Thank you everyone for the Happy New Year wishes. I hope you’re right. I got hundreds of “Happys” LAST year, and 2017 really turned out to be a stinker for me. There was not much “happy” involved.

There were a FEW good points: I’ve got my health, considering that the year I was born, James K. Polk was President of the United States. I enjoyed two trips to North Carolina to see my son, daughter-in-law, and my Love Boy, grandson Parker who, at seven years old, is using words like”hilarious” and “extend.” I loved spending a few days with a dear old friend, who used to live about twenty minutes from me, and now lives about six hours away. I am still totally in love with the angel/saint who has shared my life for the last seventeen years. I still practically WORSHIP animals, including the five cats that are in my life and the dozens of other cats and dogs I can’t find room for. I have happily made some new chums to replace some past chums who have, for one reason or another, drifted out of my circle and off into a different dimension. I’ve gone “on the wagon,” not having an alcoholic beverage for three weeks short of an entire YEAR—which could be a good thing or a bad thing, depending on how you look at it. The Supreme Court knocked my socks off by approving two things I’ve been totally supporting and automatically assumed that they would shoot both of them out of the water—but they didn’t.

Bad stuff last year? Won’t go into anything personal—it’s been lousy for me and will bore the hell out of YOU. But in the early spring of 2015, political campaigning began, and never stopped for a moment, and while it entertained me for a while, it is now, eight months later, driving me ballistic! In the United Kingdom, the LAW says that political campaigning can only last SIX WEEKS before an election. Wouldn’t THAT be a breath of fresh air?

Literally every day there have been gun murders somewhere in America that some folks actually CHEER, or they accuse the parents of six year olds of making it all up, like Sandy Hook——and every week some other state passes a local law that either discriminates against WOMEN, discriminate against TEACHERS, discriminate against minorities and try to keep them from voting, or discriminate against anyone who is not Caucasian and doesn’t follow the religion YOU follow, and keep another entire religion of people from entering the United States of America at all.

Bill Cosby. Josh Duggar. Pat Robertson. Tom Brady. The guy who raised the price of an HIV medication from $13.00 per pill to $750.00 per pill. The execution of the magnificent Cecil the Black-Maned Lion, just for the FUN of some deranged and sexually dysfunctional dentist in Minnesota. Don’t get me started.

The Kardashians—frankly I wouldn’t recognize any of them if they knocked on my door tomorrow morning and bit me in the butt. Pop music completely turns me off ever since Judy Garland passed away. Daytime “news shows” talk 90% about women’s fashion and cooking and shopping, and only 10% on what’s going on in the world—and the hosts all jabber away at the same time so you can’t understand one word of what they’re saying.

Everybody was turning handstands when the weather temperatures in November and December broke records for downright HEAT—all forgetting that if you didn’t believe in global warming before, you sure as hell should NOW.

As a HUGE movie-goer—I used to see over 100 movies each year—but those released in the first six months of 2015 were so ghastly that I didn’t even attend a theatrical film until late July—making myself happy watching a gazillion movies I have at home on DVD and looking forward to “The Walking Dead” and “The Big Bang Theory” and “NCIS.”

I lost a very close friend to a sudden demise—one of the great lunch-and-drinking buddies I’ve ever known. Things happened over which I had no control that are probably going to turn my work life upside down for a while. People everywhere are struggling to keep a roof over their heads and have, by necessity, slowed way down from their book buying—and unfortunately I WRITE books that people have to buy in order for me to avoid moving to a spacious empty refrigerator carton under a bridge on the banks of the Cuyahoga River.

SO—here we are, 10 1/2 hours into the year 2016. I never make New Years resolutions. They are all damn silly. Yeah, yeah, I should lose a few pounds, volunteer somewhere, and read more—just like everyone else.

Here’s what I’m going to TRY to do in 2016. Make sure that I write TWO books every year, if not more. Make sure that I support and protect ALL animals everywhere, which includes NOT eating them (I’m 3 1/2 years a vegan and don’t regret it for a moment). Make sure I do random acts of kindness whenever I have the chance. Make sure I don’t tailspin into a minor depression when things aren’t going my way—and sure as hell some things WON’T. Make sure I TELL all the people I love how much I DO love them.

And oh yes—wishing all of YOU a much better 2016 than we all suffered in 2015. And while I’m at it, I wish you GOOD LUCK!