Hate to harsh your buzz, but that 'new year' smell is sort of already off the calendar, right? I mean, we're one full week into 2011 and I'm still getting wished a 'happy new year' by folks on the phone and in stores. Huh?
When do we stop doing that to each other? I was raised by wolves (short, grey Irish ones I believe) and we never learned about this stuff in etiquette classes. When has the ship officially sailed on extending best wishes (even) after the year has changed? Is there a cut-off date and is it published in USA Today in the lower right hand on the front page? Perhaps, like one of those tests of the Emergency Broadcasting System, is there a public service television announcement on the 'use by' date?
Don't get me wrong-I'm not a curmudgeon cum laude. I'm just trying to sort out why the after school high school helper at the grocery can't cut me a break in the greetings and felicitations department when I buy my lunch salad. I mean, I don't even know the kid and more often than not when I glance at the name tag I assume the Dymo label maker threw up since the name makes no sense to me (say what you will-my generation had names from which, at the very least, you could correctly educe the sex of the child. Try that today and get back to me, Sparky, okay?). Meanwhile everyday I'm still getting a 'happy new year!'
To be clear, if you've not seen someone for sometime, perhaps they dropped off the face of the earth like a Chilean miner, by all means meet 'em and greet 'em (I love 'if you're born a cricket, you die singing.' They should put that on the "Welcome to Lubbock" sign), unless they're part of the Yonni Barrios' posse and in that case a nod will suffice and don't ask about the date night specials.
The year (only) has 365 days in it. How many more are we going to spend wishing one another a happy remainder of it....a halt to all of this can't start soon enough, that's for sure. Synchronize your watches and calendars.
-bill kenny
Ramblings of a badly aged Baby Boomer who went from Rebel Without a Cause to Bozo Without a Clue in, seemingly, the same afternoon.
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