2010. I had such high hopes for it. That the economy would somehow prove all the gurus wrong and bounce back, delivering jobs and soaring stocks like party favors. That the publishing climate would turn rosy, with my particular sub-genre taking on new life. And, if world peace was out of the question, that we could at least tone down the bitter mean political rhetoric and find our way to a new more civil partisanship.
It wasn’t total naivete’ on my part that had my hopes raised. 2010 sashayed into my sights with her shiny sequins and killer heels, whispering the one intriguing assurance guaranteed to catch my interest: she wasn’t going to be 2009. With only a wink and crooked finger from ’10 I was trotting after her like a puppy after a Milkbone.
She wasn’t looking so shiny when I peeled away the last remnants of her empty promises at 11:59 PM on Dec. 31. As a matter of fact, as I accepted a cardboard party hat from 2011, I saw ’10 limping around the corner, looking all lonely and dejected. Good riddance, I thought. 2011 will be different. She told me so.
And I believe her. So I’ve given a great deal of thought to my hopes for the new year. Some of them are even altruistic.
–that Justified will be renewed and given a regular viewing schedule. The world needs more Timothy Oliphant.
–that Charlie Sheen can refrain from drugs and physical abuse for an entire year. Those mug shots are so unflattering.
–that Mel Gibson can manage to sound a bit less crazy and unbalanced. I still mourn the loss of the hero from the Lethal Weapon movies, although to be fair, he was probably nuts back then and we just didn’t realize it.
–that Lady Gaga refrains from wearing dresses meant to send canine packs into a drooling frenzy. It seems wasteful to have clothes made that an entire neighborhood could feast on.
–that drug companies come up with a cure for arthritis, or at least something to rid us of those unsightly misshapen fingers. And they can throw in a cure for baldness while they’re at it. They’ve got a year, after all.
–I’m dreaming of a new invention that will fry the electronic device of everyone who illegally downloads copyrighted materials and defeat piracy once and for all.
–and that the media will stop reporting it every time Sarah Palin opens her mouth. One word: overexposed.
–I’m hoping John Mayer will fall hopelessly madly in love with a woman who proceeds to stomp his tiny little heart into pieces and then goes on The View to tell the world about that, along with juicy gossip about all his personal tiny little pieces. Ahem. After all, turn about’s fair play.
–that they stop messing around by changing Facebook every few weeks. Some of us don’t adapt so well to change.
–that the next version of iPad fixes the glare problem for e-reading so I will have a logical reason to buy one.
I’ve plenty more. I’d like the Cubs to win the world series. For Iowa men’s basketball to rebound (pun intended). A couple new publishing contracts would be nice. And a small lottery win to make retirement a possibility.
That’s a pretty full list so I’ll leave world domination for 2012.
2011 better learn from 2010. If she doesn’t deliver on some of those promises, I’ll kick her to the curb before she can blink. She’s got until the end of December.
Do you have any hopes for the new year to add to the list? Don’t be shy. 2011 and I are tight. This year is going to be different. She promised!