Though I try to be a rational, reasoning person, a lifetime of social inertia and personal virtualization had yielded a network of date-specific superstition. New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day are days to do good, example-setting things, things it would be good to do all year long. So on New Year’s Eve I headed for the Devonshire Senior Center. My friend Maggie had called me last week and I had committed to visiting with her.
Alas, she was not there. But I did get a replacement membership card, and talked to walk organizer Tracy about the status of walk programs, and got a new coffee card for a buck, and made this:
The only thing I have resolved to do in 2019 is live to see 2020. But it would be nice to help someone, to fall in love with the right person, and to paint the masterpiece I know I have it in me to paint.
There’s a joke about Southerners with pickup trucks, which I use ironically in the little drawing I made.
What are the most common last words of Southerners with pickup trucks?
“Hey, y’all, WATCH THIS!”
One with Clay, Image and Text 