In one of my darker moments of the past week, I wrote an e-mail to 2012. I asked it to bring good things for me and my friends. I also asked for maybe a month or two of health, just because it would be nice.
Today 2012 called me, on the telephone.
Hello? I said.
What are you bringing me? said a deep voice.
Who is this? I said.
This is 2012. I start tomorrow. And I am wondering, since you want so many things, what are you bringing me?
What? I said. Like a sacrifice? Are you that kind of god? Do you want a goat or something?
My point is, I’m a year. You’re a person. You’re in ME, not the other way around. I don’t bring you things.
Oh. OK. So — how do I make this — you — a good year?
I’m not good or bad. I’m a block of time. I think you’re confusing me with someone else. Like God. Or Santa. I don’t care what you do. So don’t blame me for your shit at the end of next December.
I didn’t want to be a year, you know. I wanted to be a virtuoso pianist.
You’re lucky. You’re a human. You can be whatever you want. Who wants to be a year? It’s like being the weatherman. The news one, I mean, not someone who actually makes the weather. The weather is made by Science.
Science is Real.
OK, so… I prompted.
So, it said. Bring me your best things. And you will have the best year.
It’s that easy?
It’s that easy.
It’s not like putting lipstick on a pig?
No, more like using real butter in your cookies.
Like smiling with your eyes?
Yes. Like smizing. Exactly. Except with fathoms more moral depth than Tyra Banks.
You get what you give? I asked.
You got the music in you, it replied.
I have to go. I have more calls to make. Have you seen facebook? People are asking me — a year — for all kinds of stuff. Cars! Girlfriends! Good fortune! It’s like I’m the Easter Bunny, tooth fairy and Santa, all rolled into one. And people are talking SMACK about 2011. 2011 didn’t do anything except exist as a series of days, you know?
Yeah. Got it.
See you on the flip side. Remember. Bring the good stuff.
The good stuff.
At the end of a calendar year, people talk about meditating on a word for the coming year. They talk about resolutions, although it seems resolutions are uncool anymore. More people are resolving to not make resolutions. I’ve had ample time to think, lately, and nothing is presenting itself to me, resolution or word-wise. Or, you know, life-wise, career-wise, anything-wise. So I think I will do two things:
1. Ask myself if what I am about to say or do is true.
2. Ask myself if what I’m bringing is my best stuff.
I guess my word would be authenticity. But yesterday, walking in the forest, Fresco decided he would name his new stuffed puppy “Deciduous” and I kind of like the sound of that too.
Happy 2012, friends and foes! Deciduously looking forward to all your best stuff!