My resolution for 2010 is that I'm going to start smoking. Really. Why not? I need a good meaty vice, something to rescue me from being so dull and squeaky clean. As of December 1st people can no longer smoke in restaurants in Virginia. For years I've bitched and moaned about the seepage from smoking sections in restaurants and now I miss having that issue to complain about. So I decided that I'm going to start smoking so I can be indignant about smokers' rights.
I'm already sick of this 2010 thing. The number is just weird--a 2, a zero, a 1, and another zero. Doesn't it look odd? It doesn't look like a real year--it should be the number for some sort of income tax form. Besides I was just getting used to the 2000-aught years. This one just came without being invited.
Can't we just skip 2010, or even better maybe rewind back to 1964? Back in the 60s we didn't worry about trans-fats and getting anthrax and global warming. Some of us still had hula hoops and 18 year olds could drink beer legally. The music was fabulous and we could go to free teen club dances with great bands like Little Willie and the Gondoliers. None of my girlfriends were having hot flashes and none of the guys had ED. (And we didn't learn about every malady known to man from television commercials.) Hamburgers (with trans-fats and too much salt and tainted meat) cost a quarter. Those were the good old days.
Happy new year anyway.