I mark the New Year by celebrating, in a world of pain and horror, the detonation of joy that is the Golden State Warriors. The godlike Curry, Green and Thompson are possessed with a level of talent that renders me speechless. All I can do when they work their magic and make another impossible shot from a mile down the court is jump out of my seat and holler, “Boom!”
In a related matter, in 2016 I hereby resolve to:
Learn to tell jokes: “What happens when you die? They give someone else your hospital bed.”
Change channels whenever I hear the word “Trump”.
Befriend a Muslim.
Stop talking about real estate, downsizing, traffic, parking, parking fines, new restaurants, $40 entrees, kale, my feet or use the words “curated”, “artisanal” or “awesome” in conversation.
Download one of those sharpen your mind and memory apps.
Get through Sunday night without “The Good Wife” and “Homeland”.
Overcome my prejudices against fleece, very small dogs, nostalgia, clog dancing, animation, tie-dyed anything.
Create an art park on the Berkeley shoreline.
Turn the Daily Geezer into a global media conglomerate.
Let other people have the last word.