V ^ V-
Two Thousand and What?
By Jim Turner
“New Years Eve is like every other night; there is no pause in the march of the
universe, no breathless moment of silence among created things that the passage of
another 12 months may be noted; and yet no man has quite the same thoughts this
evening that come with the coming of darkness on other nights.” Hamilton Wright
Mabie, 1846-1916, was a quotable American essayist, lecturer and critic who
earned multiple degrees, including an LLD from Columbia Law School. The above
thoughts on the New Year are his.
In Pine Knoll Shores, the New Years Eve partygoers yelled, “Happy New Year.”
Then we all made unpleasant noises with trinkets designed for making annoying
sounds. Everybody kissed somebody and exchanged best wishes for the arrival of
the new Diaper-Dandy. The year 2017 was officially underway, and Tm still looking
around for 2016. Where did it go? I wasn’t quite through with it. I had big plans for
the old year and had set ambitious goals, yet somewhere along the way the pole got
greased and the brass ring just kept slipping away.
A lot of stuff happened in 2016. Some of it was good; some of it was not so
good. Some of it was unbelievably bad. I did not, I repeat, did not win the lottery.
Actually, the lottery fancy was more of a cross-my-fingers and spit-in-my-hand
kind of plan and not really a goal. Also, I did not open my door and find the
Publishers Clearing House crew with their cameras, the flowers and my giant check.
After faithful participation for nearly 47 years, it is probably time to abandon that
idea from consideration as something to look forward to in 2017.1 do understand
that this little stand-off between me and PCH exemplifies the classic definition of
insanity. I do the same thing over and over each year while expecting a different
result. But my stubborn self tells me I’m not insane, just a little loopy.
Atlantic
Wealth Management
THE FREEDOM TO LIVE INSPIRED
HOW CONFIDENT ARE YOU
IN YOUR FINANCIAL FUTURE?
Greg Patterson
Investment Management
Retirement Plamiing
Insurance Strategies
Tax & Estate Planning
Risk Management
Janies Allen Canady
8 The Shoreline I January 2017
A lot of pretty cool people passed away last year and left us with some level of
sadness. See how many of these names you remember: Arnold Palmer, Janet Reno,
Natalie Cole, Harper Lee, David Bowie, Otis Clay, Pat Conroy, Frank Sinatra Jr.,
Prince, Muhammad Ali, Gene Wilder, Garry Shandling, Merle Haggard, John
Glenn and The Lady Chablis. Shame on you if at least 12 of these 15 folks do not
have some special meaning for you. Unfortunately, too many dirt bags cheated the
Grim Reaper and remain on the planet to use up perfecdy good oxygen. I could
recite a few of these names, but they would likely end up on the editor’s floor, and
rightfully so. Besides, the world will continue to spin until it doesn’t, regardless of
my opinion. Multiple deep breaths help.
The climate is still changing, and, fortunately for non-believers, we live on an
island where sand is abundant and where heads can easily be buried to hide from
reality. If you take a walk along the shore, you might find a variety of brand labels
attached to bottoms of jeans and aimed at the sun.
Advertising for the Christmas gift-buying season started soon after Labor Day
in 2016, and the holiday music began blaring in department stores and on radio
stations. That devil song that gets in my head every year around Thanksgiving, the
one about Grandma’s unfortunate experience with Santa’s reindeer, hardly had a
chance to earn a scream from me before Florence Henderson died and a different
tune attached itself to my brain. Florence, as you surely remember, was the singer/
actress who played the role of Carol Brady in the TV series “The Brady Bunch.” The
series aired from 1969 until 1974 and told the story of a blended family and their
daily adventures. The theme song began with these words:
Here’s the story of a lovely lady
Who was bringing up three very lovely girls.
All of them had hair of gold, like their mother.
The youngest one in curls.
So there. Now the music is yours to hold in your head. I give it away to you.
Take it, please. Take it even if you don’t please. Just get it out of my head. I want
Grandma back. I forgive Grandma for drinking too much eggnog and walking
when the “do-not-walk” sign was blinking. I do not forgive Florence for dying and
allowing the 24-hour news stations to blare her theme music every five minutes for
two weeks. Bad Florence.
The year 2016 gave us some pretty scary stuff like the Zika virus and Hurricane
Matthew. Britain exited the EU and the world learned of North Korea’s fifth nuclear test,
its most powerful explosion yet. There were some attention-grabbing events as well—
activities that appealed to our lighter side. For example, in January San Francisco hosted
the Cheesemonger Invitational. There was no admission charge for Pied Pipers. Some
folks described it as a cheesy affair while others found it tasteful. From March through
October the Lantern Festival toured the country and lighted up skies from coast to
coast. Dover, Delaware, was host to the Firefly Music Festival in June. I broke the sixth
string on my acoustic guitar so I was unable to participate. Maybe next year I will be
better prepared for the performance. In July 2016 San Diego offered us the adventure
of Comic-Con. This festival featured characters from favorite movies, comic books and
shows. Glad I didn’t make this one ’cause Wonder Woman wasn’t there.
One should never give up on Texas. Not to be outdone by other states, the
Lone Star State provided us with the Texas Renaissance Festival. This dandy
featured jousting knights all duded-up in colorful outfits and wielding fancy lances
suitable for removing opponents from their mighty steeds. Contestants could be
transported immediately from the arena to the funeral parlor next door. Each had
signed a disclaimer prior to the competition and acknowledged their desire to be
buried in their boots and bloody knight outfit. As you might expect from Texas, in
accordance with current Texas state law, the jousters were permitted to wear their
six-shooters on their hips. In the event the lances broke during the fight, all was not
lost as the trusty 45 could finish the job. Finally, in November Las Vegas sported th^
Rock’n Roll Marathon.
Of course you probably knew about all these happenings long before they
occurred and maybe even brought back a tee shirt or two. Not me, though. I spent
much of the year searching for the remains of 2015. Brooks Atkinson wrote, “Drop
the last year into the silent limbo of the past. Let it go, for it was imperfect, and
thank God that it can go.” Was he speaking to me?
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