GTFOoH 2016

It is very early on the last day of what many people believe was the worst year in recent memory.  The cats are fed and contentedly staking out their morning nap positions.  Warrior Queen has arisen, and yes, there is the coffee bell being rung for her daily ration of “happy juice.”

Now a second longer ringing since I did not hop to it while I finished that last sentence.  Pardon me while I play fetch...

Okay, I’m back.  WQ has her coffee and all is right with the world.  No, I take that back.  It’s still 2016 for 17 more hours, so how can there be anything right with the world? 

WQ has just announced that Auckland will see the New Year within minutes from now.  Oh whoopty doo!  And the sunrise will instantly bring lollipops and rainbows back to our lives. 

Now allow me to go full grumpy on this thought:  I’ve never been big for lollipops, and rainbows could be a metaphor for all of mankind’s lofty endeavors, shining bright and colorful just to fade too quickly into memory.

Okay, I went full grumpy and I am still in a kvetching mood.

The year’s end will happen with many of us despairing over the approaching onslaught against our nation’s character.  We won’t remember this year fondly.  It will be the year which we can point to and say, “Yes, that’s the time when every inch of progress made in the last 8 years, nay, 50 years, started to go into reverse.”

2016 will be remembered more for losses than anything else.  Oh sure, the Cubs finally won the World Series, but beyond that, the tallies in the other column dwarf their accomplishment.  The human toll was particularly heavy this year, with the music industry taking a bigger hit than usual. 

We lost many of our jukebox heroes since the year started.  Some gave up the ghost after too many years in the fast lane (Glenn Frey); others were allowed to age and slip away gracefully (David Bowie and Leonard Cohen).  At least one was a genius who perhaps saw the writing on the wall and bowed out without having to withstand the indignity of old age (Prince).   So we mourn our loss with each passing and envy them at the same time.  Lucky bastards are in a better place now.

So for the rest of us, what is to be done except make the best of it.  In my immediate future (tonight) I will probably drink more than usual and console myself with what one blogger friend considers nasty chips and a big bowl of dip. Yet even as I will do this and expose my body to the instant gratification of sensations that are bad for me, I wish there was something more cathartic I could do to mark the year.

Oh, allow me to celebrate the occasion with one very cruel, inhumane thought: if 2016 were human we could tie it to a wheelchair and push it off the top of a long flight of steps!

What?  Oh come on!  We were all thinking it!

Are you still here 2016?   GET THE EFF OUT OF HERE! 

(Thank you for reading and Happy New Year.  Oh and 2016, don’t even think about coming back!)