New Year’s Greetings
By The oppressive demands of fatherhood have guaranteed that this will be my most sedate New Year’s Eve since 1984. Unlike 1987, I probably won’t be arrested; unlike 1989, I won’t squander the night reaching (unsuccessfully) beyond the threshold of my romantic caste; and unlike 1999, I won’t welcome in the New Year by rescuing my youngest brother’s head from his own toilet. My wife and I will quite likely be shit-canned by midnight — my daughter being one of the most reliable sleepers in the history of infancy — but I will be considerably less debauched than usual. All things considered, I suppose it could be worse. Juneau being a sort of Island of Misfit Toys, New Year’s Eve can be a scary time to venture beyond the comforts of home.
That being said, Happy New Year to everyone in the Eastern Standard Time zone and beyond. I’m still mired in 2006 and will be for the next four unendurable hours. This year is beyond redemption, the worst in human history since 2005. I doubt 2007 will be much of an improvement, but the soft glow of alcohol makes anything seem possible, at least until morning.