year out, year in

Well, that was a hell of a ride, wasn't it, folks? Some of the best didn't make it through, and some that should have been pitched overboard in January came sailing right along. What can you do? Grab a beer and grin.

So here's to a new year, 2009. Here's to hard work, but the kind that gives you a good night's sleep - not the kind that leaves you up until dawn worried and stressed.

Here's to a new president, and that's a blessing in at least two ways. For one, I do think Obama's got good in his heart and good in his head, and he might get us all pushing together for once. Or at least enough of us to outpush the ones still pushing that same old bullshit. And, god bless us every one, that damned, ignorant, bloodthirsty, classless, privileged bastard W is out. (Now, when does he get tried for war crimes?)

Here's to loud music in smoky rooms and soft music as spring comes on. My buddies the Lucky Scars have a brand new cd recorded, so here's to them and every other bar band working day jobs and still cranking out anthems for the rest of us. Make theirs a whiskey.

Here's to sweethearts and falling asleep next to someone you trust, but here's to sprawling all over your very own bed with no one to worry about at times, too. Here's to getting the love you need and the space you need, and that's about the hardest balancing act I know.

Here's to dogwood blossoms and trips to St. George on a Sunday afternoon. Cold snaps on days you don't have to work and bonfires that last all night. Community festivals and outdoor music and dozens of raw oysters and cocktail sauce. Sweating your ass off sitting in the shade watching the summer roll by. Camping down by the river after the mosquitoes die back again in the fall. Halloween parties and birthday parties and Billy and Shayla's annual July 4th Bring Your Own Pool Party.

Here's to the friends that are with us right now, because I guarangoddamntee that they won't all make it to 2010. And here's one for the folks that will sprout up in our lives this year, to be near and dear by next winter.

Here's to you and here's to me, and ain't it good to be alive when the sky's blue and the air's chilly and there's promises of a good time to be had?

Dress in Your Best

I'm throwing the New Year's Eve party this year for my group of friends. We've had a lot of keg beer, burgers on the grill, sweatshirts or cut offs get togethers lately, so I'm setting up the NYE shindig as a dress up event. A little sham champagne, some finger foods (as I told my chef friend: I want something with bacon and something with pastry), and everybody's best clothes.

It's that last one that cracks me up. I don't know why, but I never fail to be entertained by what people think of as their "best clothes." I can tell you now that at least one guy will turn up looking like a mafia don, a couple of dudes will have on snazzy hipster suits, one or two of my friends will have on real Fred Perry polos (those things ain't cheap, you know) and clean bluejeans, the gals will be evenly split between heels and no heels (which will show up in who decides to go around back to the bonfire and who doesn't want to get stuck in the lawn), Tommy will show up in a lady's blouse and more intense eye makeup than Cap'n Jack Sparrow, the punk rockers will put on their very best band tshirts, and I, at least, will polish my boots.

You should see what happens when we all get invited to church.