The New Year

A new president, a new year, a new party, a new commitment, a new morning, a new coffee cup.

I am looking forward to the new this year. I am looking forward to looking forward. I am looking forward to the fact that forward is the only direction we should go in. I am looking forward.

My dog's name is Future. He is staring at me from the futon in front of my desk right now. The Future waits to be taken out for a walk around the block; there is so much to sniff and piss on. Maybe, if he's lucky, a squirrel will come out of hiding and run past his jaw and he can pretend that he has a chance to catch it and show what he's made of.

I love how everything is a metaphor if you just raise your eyebrows right when you say it.

My father died unexpectedly on Sunday, Nov. 30. I think it was Sunday, Nov. 30. We had lost track of time over the course of two days in the hospital. I find it more painful to write those words than I thought it would be. I miss him very much. He was a very good man and an excellent father. Actually, I would say that he was a really good father though he had his flaws but as a man, he was probably one of the best in the world -- ethical, honest, dignified, funny, smart, clear, grounded, strong. He knew what he believed, and he always acted on his beliefs of right and wrong. I know other people who are either confused about right and wrong or too cowardly or craven to act on what they know to be write and wrong. My father was neither confused nor craven, nor didactic or difficult. I can't believe he's gone, and don't believe its right. . . Though I'm dealing as best I can.