It's a New Year.
Yippee.
Friends, Romans, Countrymen. I come to bury 2025, not to praise it. I stayed up until midnight last night, not so much to celebrate as to make sure 2025 got the hell out and slammed the door behind itself. But a new year is a time for reflecting on the blessings you have received. So, 2025, thanks that:
· Nobody in my family or close circle of friends went to jail. That I know of. Unfortunately, there were many people, some in the public eye, who should have gone to jail. Or stayed in jail. I leave that to 2026.
· Nobody is in the hospital right now, although Vaughn and I had a lot of health problems over the year. Of course, the hospital is where I spent most of Christmas Day, but I’m home, so good. The remaining problems? 2026.
· We are both retired, so we have a lot of time to do cool stuff. But, you know, health problems. 2026?
We see that the evil does indeed live after the end of the year while the good is oft interred with its calendar.[1] The iconic Baby New Year 2026 in its little diaper and sash must face down Old Man 2025 and that’s no task for an infant. That poor thing will inherit the biggliest mess, to paraphrase something or someone.
This may be no country for old men[2], but it sure isn’t safe territory for a baby. That poor thing will inherit the biggest mess, to paraphrase something or someone. We need to be done with those “honorable men” that Marc Antony repeatedly refers to[3]. I think we can all imagine the people, men and women, whom I’m referring to. In fact, some of those people mentioned above who should have gone to jail are among them.
This year we need to start with a mature, intelligent, and strong New Year. Maybe in its 40s with a law degree, military experience, and a team of helpful characters - Deputy Dog comes to mind. Mighty Mouse. Scooby Doo. The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Dudley Do-Right. All narrated by Edward Everett Horton.
Are they cartoon characters? Sure. But let’s think about those in the United States Government now: A man whose brain was eaten by a worm. A woman who shot her puppy and bragged about it on social media. A weekend host on Fox Entertainment[4].
But we don’t have Dudley Do-Right and his crew. What we have is a Baby New Year who has already been scarred by the ways of the world. Talk about Baptism by Fire.
So now what? Our dear friend William Shakespeare addressed this as well[5]. The fault, dear reader, is not in our stars alone; it is also in ourselves (another paraphrase). I spent a lot of 2025 wondering what I could do? 71 years old, in red and rural West Virginia, suffering from dementia.
Well, I write this column. Originally to share my Alzheimer’s experience with others dealing with that horrible disease which I hope continues. I have found allies, even here in West Virginia. Of course, there’s a university in town, so that helps add a little balance, but we are truly in a sea of red hats.
The tide seems to be turning a little. The damage done to the Affordable Care Act will hit hard. Already Head Start and other education programs have been slashed. Maybe, maybe people will wake up.
But I doubt it.
I sat with a friend at an event celebrating John Lewis’s birthday. We were handing out voter registration forms and soliciting school supply donations. It was a pretty quiet day.
So I say, no more quiet days. Let’s do it. Let’s get into good trouble. Let’s not just be the kind and gentle people that are considered too compassionate by the other part of the population.
One of my rules in teaching was to always err on the side of compassion when students had difficulties. Did some get away with cheating, skipping class for something other than a grandmother’s funeral[6], or turning in late work? Sure.
· But did I help one student who confessed to serious depression get treatment?
· Did I work with the schedule of a student who had been sexually assaulted just off campus?
· Did I make deals with struggling students that all they had to do to pass the class was to turn in a passing portfolio?
Yep, yep, and yep.
· Did I pass a student athlete who didn’t do half the work because she was travelling with a team that ended up winning a national championship? Not playing, just travelling. Just in case.
No. The actual players did their work AND scored the wins. Sorry.
Maybe the best thing to do is become contagious. Catch Hope, Truth, and Compassion and spread those diseases like the measles in South Carolina. Start a new pandemic.
It’s hard. It’s discouraging. But when you hear every day – EVERY DAY – that immigrants are all murderers and rapists who eat your pets, that every boat in the Caribbean is smuggling drugs directly to the United States, that the White House needs a ballroom, so good bye East Wing – when you hear those things it’s tempting to go to bed and wrap a pillow around your head. I’ve done that. Probably will again.
But. I’ve also stood up when someone was being harassed in public. I have written to representatives (ha!). I have donated to organizations that support the lowest levels of society.
So, you see, I haven’t done very much. It’s a New Year, and that Baby 2026 needs our help.
[1] I think cremation is a more fitting end for a calendar but apparently not a choice for Julius Caesar.
[2] It is, actually, no country for old men, for women of any age, for the LGBTQ community, for people with brown skin, for the poor, for the sick and etcetera etcetera, etcetera. (Hope you’ve all seen The King and I. If not, check this:
[3] I think they were old too.
[4] Don’t blame me; a judge said that.
[5] Also from Julius Caesar.
[6] How many grandmothers do these kids have?
If only most public commentary were this witty and wise.