It’s Wednesday. New Year’s Day. The morning sky is complicated with clouds. Sunlight cracks through the marbled gray. It’s not quite 9am. It’ll be later than that when I’m done writing this. I’ve already started a pork roast with sauerkraut in the crockpot. Later I’ll make mashed potatoes. I’ve had my breakfast: waffles, eggs, bacon. I wrote my first poem of 2025. I’m almost done my first cup of coffee which is tepid and slow to go down. Not a bad start to the day. Not a bad start to the year.
Last night, I was out late with friends. New Year’s Eve, bar, beers, frenet-branca, countdown, a shot of champagne, hugs, someone putting a silly hat on me. In the wee, west coast hours of the night/morning, I wished people a happy and healthy new year. Back in my apartment, I was hungry and made sourdough toast with fresh tomato and manchego cheese – which at 2 or 3am tasted divine.
Yesterday, during the day, I went to a different bar to watch the Penn State football game. I went to a Penn State bar in my neighborhood. There, I leaned against a wooden support beam and watched the game on on the center TV. The bartender, who sometimes hangs out at my local spot, asked, “weren’t you just saying you wouldn’t be coming here to watch the game? That it was a little too much Penn State?” I shrugged and nodded. I did say that when I last saw her. I had since changed my mind.
When I looked around the crowded bar, I saw an older guy who looked familiar. His hair, his face, his mannerisms, the way he blinked his eyes, moved his jaw. He got up and went to the bathroom. On his way back he wandered around and stopped to talk to strangers. Even his wandering gait looked familiar and the guy I was thinking of always talked to stangers. I was sure I knew him. As he got closer, I said his name: “Gary?” His face lit up with recognition. We smiled and shook hands and hugged.
Last week, I was back in Pennsylvania for the Christmas holiday. As part of my trip I drove out to State College (Penn State) to visit a pub where I used to spend my Friday evenings. At the pub, Otto’s, I spent time with three of my old friends. It was wonderful. I asked them how Gary was doing. They said they don’t see him much, he’s cutting back on visiting the pub. Someone might have mentioned he was visiting his kid out in California. It turns out, he’s visiting his son in California – and going to the Penn State bar in my neighborhood.
Unexpectedly seeing an old friend after intentionally seeing other old friends was a wonderful way to close out what has turned out to be a pretty fantastic year. Now begins the process of digging in to a new year, the process of evaluating what I’d like to keep, what I’d like to toss, what I’d like more of, and what I’d like less of. Yesterday, I was writing about, and trying to understand, this sense of spiritual fullness that I’ve been feeling (maybe it’s gratitude or generosity). I was writing specifically as related to what from a past relationship I hope to carry forward… but more broadly I was thinking about this fullness as it relates to my relationship with the world.
Along with a little more self-discipline, what I’d like to keep and what I’d like more of in 2025 is that sense of fullness and optimism. In addition to writing more (yay for starting the year off having written a poem), I hope to restart my joy journal (where each day -preferably in the moment – I catalog the things that make me smile); I hope to restart my Spanish lessons; I hope to take a trip (not just back east, but somewhere new, maybe overseas); I hope to make new friends with different interests; I hope to make better use of my time; I hope to get more organized (I’m looking at you iTunes library and old, slightly embarrassing blog posts from 2019 and 2020); I hope to laugh more and worry less; I hope to continue to be present and to try new things; I hope to live a full and rich life.
Despite the political shitstorm on the horizon, I’m feeling good about where I am. Despite those marbled and complicated clouds that sometimes illicit my shaking fist and snarled grimace, I’m feeling good about the various whos, whats, and wheres I might meet, love, and appreciate in 2025.
Cheers.