That Was The Year That Was: A Christmas Letter

For decades now I have received Christmas letters reviewing a friend’s year. Half dozen of them. All the highlights. Trips to their condos in Rio or how the Tesla is ludicrously fast.  Bicycle tours through Middle Eastern war zones with nary a scratch.  I so look forward to those holiday missives.  Read the letters aloud to my wife who now knows these aging amigos.  And they are all doing better than I am.  So, I rant and I rave.  Maybe swear in amazement.  Finally, when I take those detailed memories down off the refrigerator, taped to the stainless, I say, “Isn’t that great for them.” – JDW

When nothing seems to help,

I go and look at a stonecutter

hammering away at his rock,

perhaps a hundred times

without as much as a crack

showing in it.

Yet at the hundred and first blow

it will split in two,

and I know it was not

that last blow that did it,

but all that had gone before.

-Jacob A. Riis

***

Don’t remember January at all.

Actually was still hung over from the Curse of Lono.

Nor February.

Not March neither, nothing

in and out like a invisible white tiger.

April, think we went to Cedar Key

a colonic for the soul

May.  Off to Oregon

where I am considered ‘normal.’

***

Go Pre!!  Met Tall Paul

lunched with Little Jacki and Old Joey

locked in a small car with Colonel Parker.

Racing from the rain with Captain Tom.

Changed the actual names

to their real names.

That’s how I do it.

***

Was basically sick all June.

Around here it’s too hot in July

to go outdoors.

Same for August.

I am a terrible host with

a killer dog

and a mind of his own.

Can’t bar-be-que worth shit.

Then the summer’s over.

***

Fall every bit as hot

worth your life just running

in the noon day cauldron

about as early as bones lubricate.

November. Wife now eligible for Medicare

and still gets carded.

Which is good for a giggle

until she punches me to stop.

Laid my mother to rest at Cedar Key.

Just try to get through December

Christmas day, it was 84 degrees.

Can’t complain.

***

Wrote some, some something

basically every day.

Made a promise to myself

do at least one thing

every day, at least one.

Turned out to be kinda limiting.

Just can’t seem to do as much

for as long.

***

Hope you had as much fun

as I did.

Remember

life is about being the best you

you can be

right now.

***

The work you do

might not always produce the results

you are looking for.

Keep hammering away.

Too weird to live, too rare to die.

Six weeks later I was still reading that book.

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