Tuesday, December 31, 2002

2002 was rough. There's no other way to put it. The days were filled with more struggle than usual, and disappointments seemed to pile one on top of another.

My own experience these past twelve months is hardly unique. Many of those close to me had a tough time of it, and I'm convinced this goes well beyond my own circle, too. I sense weariness in the country at large, and a general sentiment of "good-bye and good riddance" as the annual odometer sets to flip itself over.

I feel the need to sum up this 2002 experience, and I think I've found the way. There's a phrase that ran through my head each time some new setback was visited on me or mine. It came to me in the voice of a parent whose children have just broken another fragile knickknack while playing catch in the house. Those feelings of exasperation, frustration, and bemused resignation permeated the year.

With that in mind, let's give the passing year a tagline and thereby render it unto history, past and dead and actively powerless. I hereby dub 2002 The Year We Couldn't Have Nice Things.

And now, with the promise of a new and genuinely brighter year ahead, I offer a toast: Old Man '02 is done bumbling through our lives like an drunken elephant in a china shop. Here's to Baby '03: may he have more couth and consideration.

Posted @ 12:15 PM

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