about the talking fish

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Writer. Wheelman. Occasional DIY mechanic. Walking collection of hang-ups. Hopeless romantic. Old-school. Analog soul in a digital world. I am all of these things and more.

Sunday, December 31, 2006

2006 in memoriam

Dear 2006,
Before I drop you into your waiting casket and ditch, let me get the bad news out of the way first: You were a horrible year for driving. I don’t remember having gotten into this many fender-benders in my six years on the road. Truly terrible.

The personalities on the Internet you sent me were none better either. 95% of them had minds closed tighter than rotten pistachioes. To add insult to injury, you even had to take away two of my friends—arguably prematurely.

Fortunately that’s all the bad news I can remember about you. You gave me a renewed interest in novels and music; doused my pointless desire for the chunks of plastic I call “model kits;” returned the best fuel economy I’ve ever had; helped me lose weight and keep fit; finally broke my frustrations as a performer; and landed me a decent job with great co-workers. I have much to thank you for.

You were a kick-ass year. Could you please tell your son 2007 I’m looking forward to a much better time with him?

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