I'm feeling a little tongue-tied on this first morning of the long slog into the rest of winter. Still, it's nice to have a holiday that celebrates "Take down the decorations and go back to work. It's time to be cold and lonely till spring." New Year's Day is the plaintive Sunday night of the holiday season.

Maybe that's why I find it impossible to play the New Year's resolution game. "Today I resolve to catch up on laundry and make sure there's enough bread for Tom's work lunches" is typical of the Sunday-style plans I make on New Year's Day. I don't need to waste it on podunk "keep exercising, don't eat stupid food" promises. I can make those any old day, and I do.

So, on this New Year's Day, I've decided to speculate about what I don't know, what I have no plans for, what I've never seen or worn, what probably won't happen or will happen unrecognizably. Feel free to add to the list.

Tap shoes

Edwardian hats

Snails on plates

Mesas

Spelunking

Genghis Khan

Condors' eggs

Singing Monteverdi

Breaking a Tiffany lamp

Understanding Kant

Twerking

Shopping at Burger King

Gold ingots

Ivory-billed woodpecker

Ferrets in the living room

Pepsi

Watching Survivor

Heated toilet seat

Water polo

Calculus

Boxing

Cake mix

Go-go boots

Licking a frozen fence post

Botox

Shipwreck 

 

Happy New Year! I'm so glad you're bumbling around on this planet with me.

The remnants of the Howard W. Middleton, wrecked on Higgins Beach in Scarborough, Maine, in 1897; walked on by Tom and Dawn, New Year's Eve 2023