Another Year down the drain

It's that time of year again. The time of year when all the media types like to roll out their "top 10 of the past 12 months" lists. Back in the day, this meant dialing in Warner Wolf's year in review on WCBS in New York. More recently, I've tried to forget that yet another year is ticking off the calendar. This is largely because of a sense of non-accomplishment on my part.

It also means coming up with silly New Year's Resolutions, which we all tend to forget within a few weeks. For me these last few years, my resolution was to gain weight. Most people resolve to lose weight, and for the many that struggle to do so, it is yet another instance where we've failed ourselves on some level. My psychology for resolving to gain weight is simple: it's a win-win for me. Either I actually lose weight, which benefits me from a health standpoint, or I gain weight, which means I've adhered to my resolution.

Still, taking a glance in the rear view mirror of the last year provides an interesting snapshot for me. It was a year of highs and lows for me, more so than previous years. This was the year I turned 40. This was the year I gained some acceptance and accolades as a writer. This was the year the Giants shocked the world by upsetting the undefeated Patriots in a Super Bowl for the ages. This was the year that America actually elected an African-American president. This was the year that China hosted the Olympics, and did so without major incident (at least during the games themselves). This was the year the save record in baseball fell, and the year that Britney Spears saved herself from herself. The Celtics returned to relevance, providing another championship to a city now filled with sports riches and long abandoning its star-crossed sports mentality. It was also the year that one of the most famous curses this side of the Bambino's; that of Billy Penn, came crashing down in Philadelphia as the Phillies won the World Series.

And yet, I still don't know what the hell I'm doing, or why I'm still around trying to figure it out. At the beginning of the year, I thought things were finally figured out. As the great character from Field of Dreams, Terrence Mann stated, "There comes a time when all the cosmic tumblers have clicked into place and the universe opens itself up for a few seconds to show you what's possible." I was certain that had happened for me professionally. And yet, by the halfway mark of the year, that myth was confirmed as merely a mirage.

As I write this from the beautiful new Terminal 5 at JFK Airport in New York, waiting for my Jet Blue flight to return me back to Los Angeles, I wonder now as I always seemingly have, just what the hell is in front of me. All of my friends seem to have their lives figured out. They've managed to secure good career situations, fallen in love and married people, and in many cases had children and bought property. As for me, one of the selling points to prospective employers these days is that I'm unattached and have no responsibilities whatsoever.

Of course, this wasn't a big concern in years past when unemployment was 2% and the economy was super consistent. Now with companies going belly-up seemingly every day, and not just run-of-the-mill companies but big time bellwether cows mind you, I find things to be very unnerving. I find myself more concerned with the world outside of myself than ever before, and yet can't help feeling that I need to be selfish now more than ever. Even in the world of sports, it seems as though everywhere you turn, more of the outside world continues to penetrate the bubble that had once fully encapsulated it.

Maybe that's why, more than ever before, I find myself watching the games that people play. I need to for the escapism it provides from the Casey Anthony's of the world. I need to even to deal with the Terrell Owens types that threaten its sanity on a daily basis.

I have also started to appreciate things I've long since taken for granted. As I mentioned in a recent posting, I thoroughly enjoyed spending time with my father during Thanksgiving. Recently, these Lexus commercials where a kid is remembering his greatest ever Christmas gift, only to have it replaced by the new memory of getting a Lexus for a gift, reminds me of the day I received a gift I longed for more than any other before or since.

It was Christmas of 1977, and along with anticipating the NFL playoff game between the Oakland Raiders and Baltimore Colts that afternoon, which did not disappoint by the way, I woke up that morning certain that I was going to receive a Mattel Electronics hand held football game. For those under the age of 35, it is important to understand that this was in an age where technology of all kinds was still in its infancy. This hand held unit, which ran on a 9-volt battery and featured only running plays, was not only at the top of my wish list that year, it was my wish list. As the morning unfolded of us unwrapping gifts, I tried to temper my frustration at not getting the one thing I wanted by politely smiling at all the sweaters and matchbox cars I received. The last gift was a dictionary, and I did all that I could not to show my disappointment, because even though I didn't get what I wanted, I understood how lucky I was.

Then, like Ralphie Parker's father did with him in A Christmas Story, my father asked me about what I had received, and then with a distracted and puzzled look on his face, he said, "Hey, what is that big box underneath the dining room table?" I leapt to my feet, still grasping to one last straw of hope, and raced over to the table to find a huge box about the size of bathroom sink unit. I struggled to slide it out from under the table, and began to rip the wrapping off the box. I opened it up, and it revealed another wrapped box inside. Five boxes later, my Christmas wish had come true, and when school resumed after New Year's, I brought in my game to show off as the envy of my class.

So I guess I need to treat 2009 like that present I long wished for that wasn't under the tree. Maybe it's just under the table instead, and this will be the year I finally get to open it.