The Year We Make Contact

Had a pretty chill New Year's by our standards: no big all-included night at a swanky restaurant or club; no hot DJ; no live band; no Auld anything. We went to a party after 10, mingled a bit, danced for 20 minutes, then rushed downtown to see the fireworks. We arrived just in time for the opening barrage.

The initial sequence was so spectacular that an enormous thick cloud of smoke a mile high formed over the Harbor. All subsequent incendiaries were launched into this cloud, making them difficult to discern. On the pier there was much grumbling from the gathered few who braved the chill rain; but I actually found the show more dramatic because of the thick smoke. It looked quite apocalyptic, like photos of distant nebulae taken by Hubble's zoom lens, but alive, with bright bursts hidden behind screens of moiling dark matter, only a few sparkly tendrils cutting through. Fun! The display was akin to that at Fort McHenry in 1812, and went on almost as long. After the fireworks we went home and played Word Twist on Facebook. But after a two-hour deep-tissue massage during the afternoon, it was hard to do much else.

2009 can suck it. Aside from travel to New Mexico and Peru and the disappearance into rapid obscurity by G.W. Bush there were few positives, and far too much turmoil and tragedy amongst friends and loved ones. 2010 will be different--that's my only resolution.