Looking ahead to a brand new year

I always thought whoever planned our calendars did a lousy job when he (mostly likely) plunked the start of the New Year right in the middle of winter. To be harmonious, a new year should begin at the start of a new season and ideally, that season should be spring because that’s the one that makes you think of fresh starts. But, for whatever reason, we’re stuck with Jan. 1, and, having registered my mild complaint, I have to say I love it.

It’s strange how human beings have the capacity to simply create a milestone out of nothing and turn it into a big deal. To every other living creature on this earth, it’s simply another day but because we know it as Jan. 1, it will call forth fireworks and champagne and countdown clocks and paper hats and kisses.

I had many years when I raised a toast to the arrival of the new year with bells and whistles going off around me. Now, I just stay home, quietly say, “hello, 2009,” and go to bed at 12:01.

The enjoyment for me begins the next morning when I bring out the new calendar. Ah, there it is, so clean and white and pregnant with possibilities. Who knows what exciting notations will fill the blank squares ahead in January, February, March. ... Anything can happen. Events that are inconceivable at this moment — babies and pets and jobs and homes, even new loves, perhaps — waiting around an unexpected corner.

I also love packing away all my old, dirty, dog-eared, over-stuffed files. The bills I paid, the correspondence I received, last year’s bank statements. Off they go into a box that will be shoved under the bed (until I drag it out for tax purposes but I don’t want to think about that right now) to be replaced by pristine manila folders with neatly typed labels.

Like many people, I make New Year’s resolutions. I have them typed into the computer in a file marked “New Year’s Resolutions — 2008.” I have a really easy time with resolutions because all I have to do is go in and change one numeral. Voila! “New Year’s Resolutions — 2008” instantly becomes “New Year’s Resolutions — 2009.” It makes me feel sorry for the people who actually keep their New Year’s promises because on Jan. 1, they are wracking their brains to think of updated ones. Not me, I stick with the tried and true. I will try to quit smoking again this year and try to lose that same 20 pounds that’s been hanging around for decades. I will try to save more and spend less … again.

In the spring, I will plant the flower beds for which I have detailed plans in my head. I can close my eyes and picture the red rambling rose against the wooden fence and the hugely blossoming Hydrangea by the back door. I can almost smell the fragrance of the newly planted peonies drifting across the lawn.

I’m going to start keeping a database of books I’ve read in 2009, something I’ve never done before. What happens is that when I discover a prolific new author, and this year it was Jack Higgins and his Sean Dillon series, I just plunge in reading willy-nilly. I read what the library has on hand. I check the used book store. I order from Amazon. Pretty soon, I can’t remember if it was “Eagle Has Landed” that I’ve read or “Eagle Has Flown.” This is especially true of authors who use the same word in every title, like John Sandford’s “Prey” series. Right now, I have a list of five Jack Higgins books I’ve read. I resolve to add a new entry every time I read another one. That ambition should last until at least, oh, say, the middle of February.

I grant you that it is somewhat difficult to feel very optimistic about 2009 what with the state of the economy. I got an e-mail from my cousin in California. Quite dramatically (which is to be expected, I guess, considering he works in the movie industry), he declared that “Hollywood is dead.” He says everyone is so afraid to take a financial risk that even previously approved projects are being scrapped.

Likewise, NASCAR is worried about sponsors and instead of having too many cars trying to qualify for too few slots in the races, they wonder if they’ll even be able to fill their fields.

This is one good thing about getting older. Because of past experience, you’re more able to take the long view, accepting the cyclical nature of life. You know that Hollywood is probably not actually dead and that NASCAR will have drivers racing for every available slot again someday.

That’s cold comfort to those whose lives are being affected right now, but it is the inexorable way of things. The tide comes in, and the tide goes out, and, incoming or outgoing, each offers change and, sometimes, opportunity. Just watch as the months go by on the new calendar and see if I’m not right.

Vicki Williams is a columnist for the Pharos-Tribune. She can be reached through the newspaper at ptnews@pharostribune.com

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