Slightly Off the Mark: New Year

Showing posts with label New Year. Show all posts

This Decade Sucks

Let's face it: the 2020s have sucked. All of them.

Sure, we're only halfway through, but the bloody writing is on the frosty wall. I have a friend who thinks you only need to get through half the season with the Toronto Maple Leafs before you know the rest of the season will be a disaster--it's like that.

(I looked it up, they play hockey. They're the Chicago Cubs of Canada. But at least the Cubs had a good year in 2016, which you'll notice is not the 2020s.)

So there's no reason to think 2026 will be any better. People made that mistake at the end of 2020, and 21, and 22 ... well, you can count. The 1920s were much better: They actually roared. Until 1929, anyway.

Some people have been having a great decade: Arms dealers, drug companies ... um, the construction industry? Half the buildings in America either burned, floated away, or were blown away in the last five years. If your house landed in the next town, you'll have bigger problems than just changing your zip code.

Although no matter how bad a time period is, someone is happy--for example, Hitler had an awesome 1939.

I don't want to turn this into a Rodney Dangerfield routine. Or maybe I do--Rodney understood the value of comedic complaining. But it wasn't the best decade in the world from a personal standpoint. Emily and I were sick so much the CDC pitched a tent in our back yard. 2022 was the first year I ever got the flu after having a flu shot.

2025 has been the second.

Once, Emily lost her voice. At first it was cool, because I walked around the house telling puns and singing Christmas songs loudly. Then she summoned enough strength to start throwing things at me. On a related note, I suffered a head injury that year.

This was the decade all the stupid stuff I did when I was younger came back to pain me. I was an active volunteer firefighter for forty-two years. Now I have to decide if it's really worth getting out of bed to pee.

Then, as in the old joke, I went to the doctor and told him, "It hurts wherever I touch".

He said, "Idiot--your finger's broken."

My left index finger has a scar and a bit of a bend from being broken twice, but it never bothered me. Now it's a doctor joke. My joints were as stiff as the Tin Woodman, and my head proved accurate in predicting the weather five days out. I realized I should go apologize to all the adults who wouldn't play with me when I was a kid--I had no idea how much they were hurting.

And they never complained, either. Most of them were the children of the Great Depression and World War II, events that remind us that yes, it could be worse.

We also started our next round of having to replace stuff. The couch broke, the toilet broke. The refrigerator sounded fine, but it stopped cooling anything. We replaced our ailing ruby red 2014 Ford Escape with a ruby red 2019 Ford Escape. Some people still haven't realized that.

It used to be I'd call my brother for help with these things, but, well ... the 2020s suck.

Rodney Dangerfield could have said all this better, but you get the point.

In 2022 the world population reached eight billion, and two out of three got one of the three pandemics pandemic bugs going around. The third got heat stroke, or frostbite.

Inflation hit its highest level since the early 80s, a time I remember as being as bad as ... well, the early 2020s. Come to think of it, so far this winter reminds me of the early 80s. Russia's invasion of Ukraine is the biggest European war since WWII. The Queen of England died, after being in that position for so long nobody remembers who she replaced. (I think it was "King Something".) So far as I'm aware, none of these events are related, but there you go.

There was lots of other stuff, but I'll just end with: Monkey Pox.

Rodney would have had a blast with Monkey Pox. "My doctor said I should get vaccinated. I told him I wanted a second opinion, and he said 'Okay: You're ugly, too'."

"My parents took me to a dog show--and I won."

I miss Rodney. He'd know how to face 2026.

There’s always reading, and none of our books are about the 2020s:

· Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO

· Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"

· Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4898846.Mark_R_Hunter

· Blog: https://markrhunter.blogspot.com/

· Website: http://www.markrhunter.com/

· Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ozma914/

· Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MarkRHunter914

· Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/markrhunter/

· Twitter: https://twitter.com/MarkRHunter

· Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@MarkRHunter

· Substack: https://substack.com/@markrhunter

· Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/ozma914

· Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/ozma914

· Audible: https://www.audible.com/search?searchAuthor=Mark+R.+Hunter&ref_pageloadid=4C1TS2KZGoOjloaJ&pf

Remember: The 2030s are coming, and they can’t be worse. Right?

I Resolve Not to Make Resolutions

I don't do resolutions, because failing is a terrible way to start a new year.

If you make a major life change, do it gradually. A New Year's Resolution is like someone who never exercised deciding to run a marathon--tomorrow. Get healthy? Absolutely. Go cold turkey from cigarettes and snack food on January 2nd? That's why violent incidents go up on January 3rd.

Having said that, for some people stopping all at once is the only way to accomplish it, and I'm all for accomplishing something. So if you want to make a serious resolution, more power to you. Just remember, the proper response to nicotine withdrawal is not second degree murder. Not even third degree.

Well, maybe third.

For me, the best time to make life changes is spring. Why? Because in spring, I care about life. In January, I only want to turn the oven on low, wrap myself in a blanket, and climb inside. It's the only place I can get warm. I really don't care what happens elsewhere, and I wouldn't go out at all if I didn't need money to pay the gas bill. If I did make a New Year's Resolution, it would be to fill up the Ford's fuel tank and Escape south until I drive into salt water.

I have the wife, a full tank, and my Bermuda shorts, and I'm ready to head south.

But spring ... I could do spring. Things are looking up. Green stuff starts appearing. There's sun, except during basketball playoffs, when for some reason there's always ice.

What's up with that? Why is Hoosier Hysteria always accompanied by "Midwest ice storm--film at eleven"?

Sometimes there's an April sleet storm, but generally things are looking up. Sometimes the snow pile at the end of the WalMart parking lot even melts away by Independence Day. I'll walk out the door on March 21st and say, "Now I want to lose weight and give up Mountain Dew! I'll start tomorrow."

Now we're talkin'.

I gave up drinking after my 21st birthday party, which they tell me was a blast. I never did smoke: With my addictive personality, if I started they'd have to bury me with both hands clutching packs of ... I don't know, what brands of cigarettes are they still selling these days? I can't imagine walking a mile for a Camel.

Maybe that's the thing about the New Year: I never got addicted to making resolutions. But hey--there's time for me yet.

The only real resolution I have for this year--which I sincerely hope is better than last year--is to keep on writing. My plan for 2025 is to publish two new books (at least--we'll see) and write at least one other new one. That, and continuing the submission process for some already-written manuscripts, should be enough to keep me out of trouble.

Oh--and book promotion. *sigh*