January 1, 2011, There, it's Written

I flipped the on switch to the a/c unit and settled in front of the television, remote in one hand and a Kahlau in the other. Venturing out into the public arena is not something I will do on this the last day of 2010. I'm scared. I've seen the drivers here through the week day when there isn't a party going on and that acquired knowledge keeps me off the streets most nights and this one in particular.

Once when I was making a trip after dark, I approached a bar that set close to the roadside. A truck pulled out of the parking lot and onto the road heading my direction.  From a distance, my mind registered the oncoming truck. I didn't realize any danger until he got closer. The problem was, he was in the same lane as I and  was apparently too drunk to know where he was. The lights of his truck approached quickly, and in the seconds it took for that vehicle's headlights to fill my field of vision, I wrenched the steering wheel sharply to the left and claimed the other lane as mine barely managing to keep the car on the pavement. Severely shaken, I pulled back into my lane as soon as the danger was past and then  to the roadside to compose myself.

That was on a week day. A non holiday week day. That was before I had a cell phone. Many times I have wondered when that driver realized his mistake and if not, how many people were hurt that night.

I watched today as the neighbors stripped their houses and lawns of Christmas lights. Trees are discarded or packed away, lighted metal reindeer yard creatures are unplugged, boxed and stored and another Christmas is packed away. I'll miss the lights.

 My daughter and her family practice the same safety. They built a bonfire and are roasting hot dogs and marshmellows in the back yard between the bouts of rain showers. I received a text message with an invitation to join them but that would have meant getting dressed. I declined.

The snapping and popping of fireworks I hear and looking out the window to my left, I can see streamers and flashes of light behind the house across the street. The fireworks explode into the humid air and appear unclear and fogged. No sharp bursts of colors but muted and hazy as they push against the moisture laden air. 

It's midnight and I've fulfilled my self imposed obligation to see the new year arrive. 

May your New Year be happy and healthy with huge emphasis on the healthy part.  Personally, my goal is to make it through the month of March without surgery. The past two Marchs' were not a success.

Happy New Year one and all.

I'm done.