2021: Goodbye and Don’t Let the Door Hit You in the Ass

December 31, 2021

2021: Goodbye and Don’t Let the Door Hit You in the Ass


Mark Rubin

Some year, huh? Unfortunately, if you saw the headline and thought I might address the issues of the day circa 2021 … no dice. Too toxic, and as Bush père might say, “Not gonna do it. Wouldn’t be prudent.” (Do click on the link, please. Belly laughs good!!!)*

My mind wanders, often. A few weeks ago I read We Live By a Unit of Time That Doesn’t Make Sense, written by Joe Pinsker for The Atlantic. Days, months, and years focus on revolutions of the Earth, the moon around the Earth, and the Earth around the sun. And the week? A construct.

Anyway, orienting our lives around years happens and, certainly, the slowing down of the work life in December provides time to reflect and consider the upcoming year. Having engaged in this exercise about 50 times as a sentient being, I’m sure about one thing: I get more from the break than I do from considering the upcoming year.

Like everybody, I imagine, I have notions about next year. I looked at the U of A Rec Center page yesterday. The two-gym option – the new facility at the Honors College? Spectacular – costs $425. I should join, but what about COVID? Trite, too, to commit to exercise in January.

We have a staff person who wants to help us with marketing. Great idea, but can we find time when we devote so much energy to “fire” control?

And I’d like to write more? Doable, but I tell myself I should write more often frequently. When I checked, this post will be No. 12 for 2021. (For new readers, between 2014 and 2016, I wrote more than 250 times per year.)

In fact, I have tumbled onto a “thing” for 2022, beginning tomorrow and lasting for a while. We all take on parental attributes, for better or worse. My father, born in 1933, worried about having enough food. Canned goods. We had lots of cans in  my younger years, and only the best brands. (Weeks before my dad died, my sisters and I took him shopping for food. Spaghetti was on the dinner menu for the five of us, and he insisted on our buying four lbs. of spaghetti.)

COVID got me reengaged in the kitchen, but I find my quarters stuffed full of food. So, I plan to stop shopping for food, but for green vegetables and potatoes. I intend to get creative with my food preparations. And try to understand why I have more than a dozen cans, each, of tuna and sardines, and a half dozen of smoked oysters, plus too many bags of pasta and dried beans – none of them black beans – and four bottles of chili crisp. Plus, plus, plus!

I expect my supply of food will last at least a month. Probably two. I’ve also placed a jar on the counter, which will store estimated cash savings, dedicated to the Community Food Bank.

Blog posts for the next few weeks – I hope there will be several – will feature my progress, along with hits and flops. As Former Guy might say: We’ll see what happens. (No video. Nothing funny there.)

Obviously, other choices for the New Year exist. No alcohol? I drink much less than I used to, and I choose not to quit. The exercise thing? Truth be told I walk a lot, every day, and working in our new office involves lots of stair-stepping. And, boring! Personal growth? Duh, but that’s personal … and this food thing gives me a chance to understand how I got stuck with the “sense of scarcity” gene.

Happy New Year! Be safe out there, which used to refer, only, to alcohol and driving. See you on the other side.

*If some issue or event catches my eye, I will write about it, and I do plan to write about some law practice and legal issues.


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