A year of not learning ballet
I was about halfway through this column Saturday afternoon, intricately involved in a subject that was highly profound when I suddenly realized you wouldn’t believe I was doing anything profound, so I scrapped it and started over.
This was made especially easy when I examined the space available and realized that the amount of room I had wasn’t sufficient enough to hold in any kind of subject matter that was profound.
So, we’ll keep things relatively short this week, as I’m sure you’re probably still on the run somewhat, recovering from Christmas and trying to ice down plans for New Year’s Eve.
If you’re anything like me — I’m sorry — but more than that, perhaps you’re a little bit blown away by how fast the year has gone, made to seem even quicker by Facebook reminding us of things from throughout the year, and almost guilting us into realizing the year has gone quickly.
It’s bizarre really that each year at this time we get this feeling of 12 months going so quickly that we start to wonder if we accomplished anything of relevance.
I, for one, never learned ballet, which really wasn’t something I planned on doing, but with a year that cascades so fast, I didn’t even know that it was an option to learn ballet because I was so busy doing other things.
It’s this time of year that always has us looking over our shoulders toward the last 12-month set of days and weeks, because looking forward means making up lies in the form of New Year’s resolutions where we threaten to eat healthier, lose weight and maybe learn ballet … though I doubt it because that’s a silly idea where I will only get hurt.
Hold on a second, let me check something.
Yep, I’ve rambled just long enough to fill the column inches necessary to hold this final column of 2019.
Thanks for spending your Saturdays this year reading my disjunction. You are the best 30 readers I ever had! What’s that? 31? Awesome.