It seems like I can’t get it through my thick skull that it is a new year. I keep writing out checks and letters and having to mark out the year because I put the wrong one down.
This has been a continuing struggle for me since I was in grade school. I can recall sitting in class and looking at the chalk board — yes, a real chalk board — thinking that by the time Christmas vacation and New Year is over with, we’ll be out of the 1960’s.
Holy cow! That’s some history there, Bubb…
My other thought is how my best friend all through grade school, Robin had looked so far into the future that he knew the year we were going to graduated from high school. He was very optimistic to think I would graduate because I wasn’t even certain I could get beyond Mr. Kirby and fourth grade let alone our Principal Mr. Fizer.
I had come to the belief he was out to get me after he throttled me in the hallway one morning, which is another tale altogether.
The next day, as we rode along on the big yellow monster to Margaret Keating Grade School, Robin calculated that we would turn forty in the year 2000. I was completely surprised by this idea because I knew for sure Jesus was coming back before then.
And being Catholic at the time, I had it on good authority that he was really pissed off. In both cases Robin had been right.
We did graduate from Del Norte High, class of 1978 and the last time I checked we were still alive and kicking, proof that we had made it to our 40th birthdays in the Y2K. Strange how things work out, huh?
Every since then I have looked slightly beyond the next day to see what might be on the horizon. It’s nice to have an idea in case I like to take my son fishing or on a photo shoot.
By the way, I’ll be 100 years old in 2060.