It was a difficult birth for the 2021 New Year’s Baby. He (I assume it’s a he because the old year always goes out with a long beard) had to be brutally yanked out with forceps, kicking and screaming, not wanting to come into the pandemic world. Thinking of kicking and screaming, that brings me to something into which I hadn’t intended to delve. What I intended to write about was New Year’s Resolutions, those self-made goals that disappear as soon as the ink is dry, or the computer is put to sleep. But the other subject was too good to pass. Among many inanities, I heard our soon-to-be Bonehead-In-Chief on different occasions suggest he received the Nobel Peace Prize. He apparently thinks that if he repeats it enough, others would believe it. Because he obviously didn’t receive the Prize, astute members of our society won’t believe it, except for QAnon Trumpers (QAnon followers believe children are kidnapped and dragged through a secret door in Disney World, then smuggled aboard a Disney Cruise Line ship and dropped off on The Island of Pedophiles; but that’s a story for another time) and those in The Donald’s delusional there’s-a-sucker-born-every-minute base. Maybe he realized he’d gone too far because he later stated he should get the Peace Prize because with Operation Warp Speed he saved our country from the pandemic. That’s tantamount to someone setting fire to a home, then wanting honors and accolades for rushing into the burning building to save the family inside. Trump thinks that we’ve forgotten he’s the one who started the COVID-19 fire in our American home due to his inaction, and now wants credit for saving us.
Well, that’s all so 2020. We’re putting a facemask on the 2021 New Year’s Baby and moving on, making new resolutions, futile as that may be. Here are some of mine:
• I will return to picking on Congress in my column now that the orange-faced man will be, much like the New Year’s Baby, dragged kicking and screaming from the White House in chains rather than with forceps. Texas and Florida most likely will be included targets because they’re such easy pick-in’s.
• I will stop pounding No. 2 pencils in my ears, except in the case of emergency.
• I will stop messing with Siri’s mind by asking dumb questions.
• I will forget 2020 just like I did 1967-1969. I didn’t really forget them; they just never seemed to exist in the first place, their non-existence likely due to medicinal herbs.
On a serious resolution note, which presents itself here occasionally, one of my resolutions continues to be: Refraining from judgment of others. Writing humor is almost always based on judgment of some kind, but I endeavor to keep it in a separate compartment away from my daily life and interactions with folks.
This brings me to my point. I won’t mention any names, but there’s a disgruntled reader whose views have appeared in the “Reader’s Voice” section of The Voice. He expressed his disagreement with opinions I had in a long E-mail to the office of the publisher, and his disagreement with those of another gentleman in the “Reader’s Voice.” His concerns are with what we’d both written about our mendacious president in the White House. Without judgment, I’ve given his well-presented beliefs much thought because I feel they are emblematic of thousands, if not millions, of American citizens.
One by one, I’ve considered this reader’s points, intent on making an intelligent counterpoint to each. Because I’m not as rhetorical as Chaz Coddington is in his columns, and want this reader to take my counterpoints to heart, I’ve decided to sum them up here in a succinct response: The mother ship is waiting to beam you up.
Happy New Year.