My Retirement Dinner

Now that my retirement nest egg has gone completely rotten, thanks to those Wall Street Masters of the Universe and greedy CEOs, I've had to throttle back my plans for a lavish, festive retirement dinner. Here's a photo from our local paper's society section, taken at a downtown welfare soup kitchen. Now I've taken up residence in a stove crate under a nearby railroad bridge. Always dreamed of retiring to a place near the water.

A New Year's Greeting

THE CURMUDGEON’S SON SITS IN THE SUNSHINE ON NEW YEAR’S DAY AND GRIPES ABOUT THE HUMAN CONDITION (REPRISE)

At this time of resolutions and good intentions to reinvent our lives, it’s interesting to ponder why this impulse tends to strike only once a year. It’s like opening the windows on the first balmy, breezy day in the spring. The Solstice is past. The days begin to lengthen, however imperceptibly. The urge to shake off the shackles of the past peeks out like the sun from behind a dark cloud. Freedom! Why are we so afraid of it? Why do others get so anxious and disapproving when we talk about it – or, God forbid, actually practice it? In every social environment I’ve ever experienced, it’s been the same: whether they’ll admit it or not, people don’t want other people to start acting too free. I think it’s why New Year’s Day is a holiday for so many of us. It’s how society lets us get this “I’m free” nonsense out of our systems for a day, before we slip back into the warm quotidian bath of quiet desperation in which we’ll soak for the next 364 days – unless death or insanity grabs us first. That’s more than just a little bit gloomy, isn’t it? You’ll have to decide for yourself whether you find a kernel of truth in it. This New Year’s Day of 2009, my take on it is that freedom is for the very young, the very old and the very crazy. So have a crazy new year! I intend to. Unless I slip and fall back into that warm quotidian bath... Clem.