It’s New Year’s day…snow flurries in a black and white world. Up early, I greeted the world with mixed enthusiasms. 2016, I’m happy to be be here…not so joyful about the state of the world. My man Bob was out on his porch watching the flakes drifting out of the sky. A couple of years ago I wasn’t sure that Bob would see 2015 through. But there he was, a little shorter, a lot slower, and I think still grieving the loss of that part of himself that loved to smoke those horrid cigars. He takes it one day at a time now…warm days, he’s on his bench minding the street…might walk a block or two. And he’s as chatty as he ever was…which is to say that he never was and today I got a nod and a smile that cheered the frayed edges of my prosecco mini hangover. There’s a life lesson in Cigar Bob and it’s one that lives outside and away from him. Sometimes life beats on a person, as it did on Bob…and sometimes it seems to keep on beating on a person. For some that’s the end of the story. For others…one day the cloud lifts enough to let some sunshine in. Sometimes that’s enough to keep the story going. One day in the summer I asked Bob’s son…a fella who’s not looking too well himself…how Bob was doing. He just smiled and said,
“Bob’s O.K.”, and that was good enough for me.
Seeing him this morning I was going to ask what he thought of 2015. It doesn’t matter though. 2015 was yesterday. It will linger until 2016 looks a lot like a twin…but for now I don’t want to look over my shoulder.
For those of you who are young there’s this to know about older people. One year looks a lot like any other. That doesn’t mean that we don’t enjoy them…doesn’t even mean that there aren’t any differences. It’s matter of perspective. Personally, I count on young people to keep one year from BEING like any other. So far they’re doing a fine job…I do wish they’d hang up the fucking guns though.
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