And so, we begin 2022. Au revoir 2021, we hardly knew ya. To be fair, 2021 never felt like its own entity. It never felt like a year had changed. 2021 seemed to be a continuation, a variation on a theme. For instance, every time I hear about a piece by Beethoven or Mozart, it’s referred to as Concerto #4 in B Flat Major (or something like that). My question is always, whatever happened to the 3rd concerto? I must have missed it. No one told me about concerto #3? Or 2, for that matter. That’s how 2021 felt like. It felt like 2020 morphed into a 740 day/year cycle that, hopefully ended with the dawn of 2022. Perhaps like some crazy Mayan calendar, years are no long three hundred sixty-odd days. Maybe this is the new normal.

As we descended into a form of madness in February/March of 2020, we’ve continually felt as if we were emerging from the depths of the nightmare. And yet, around every corner, as a new variant, a new President, a new scandal, a new…. whatever, reared its head… we’ve endured. Yes, this has not been a smooth transition from one year to the next, or rather, an era or an epoch, but we have endured. And some, have thrived.

I look upon every new year, even 2021, as a rebirth. A chance to transition to a newer, hopefully higher form. Yes, I realize that December 31st to January 1 is no different than May 25th to 26th. But isn’t it? Isn’t renewal, rebirth and growth something to celebrate and isn’t it okay to deem January 1 as that date? I believe it is.

I do have new goals and missions for 2022. I do have hopes and dreams and bridges to cross. Join me, my friends. It’s worth the journey. So, here’s to you 2022, you sexy, sexy beast. Let’s keep it to three hundred sixty-five days. Unless it’s a terrific year and then let’s go full Mayan.

Thank you all, my friends and take my advice. Pull down your pants and slide on the ice.

Kevin R. Andrade