The Year That Wasn't

As we approach the holiday season, it is customary to take stock of the year that is drawing to a close. What were the highlights? What were the memorable events, both positive and negative? How might we fairly evaluate this period of time? The year 2020 poses a particular problem. How can one be objective about a year that has wreaked such devastation? When the history of 2020 is written, what can be said about it that might be uplifting?

The negatives jump out at us. We have a raging pandemic that has claimed hundreds of thousands of lives and hospitalized many more. Normal life has been largely replaced by a virtual existence. Work, celebrations, doctor visits are done via Zoom. When we actually venture forth into the real world, we do so with trepidation. Quick, grab what you need from the supermarket shelf and get the hell out of there! Did you see those morons with their noses hanging out of their masks? Don’t forget to use the hand sanitizer as soon as you get back in your car. Leave your shoes outside. Wipe down everything you bring home with alcohol. Dump all your clothes directly into the washing machine. Is there anything else we’ve forgotten? Of course! For godsake, wash your hands! Indoor dining is too risky. Also movie theaters. Can’t attend sporting events. Don’t even think about getting your teeth cleaned.

And it’s not just the pandemic. Look at all the cultural icons who have passed this year. If you are a baseball fan, you can’t help but notice that an entire wing of the Hall of Fame checked out in a matter of a few weeks: Al Kaline, Bob Gibson, Lou Brock, Tom Seaver, Whitey Ford, and Joe Morgan. How can that happen? Oh, yeah, it’s 2020. Remember when the term 2020 had a positive connotation? You see 20/20. You’re perfect. Now the term only connotes dread. Civil Rights icons John Lewis and C.T. Vivian, gone. Musicians Little Richard, Eddie Van Halen, and Jerry Jeff Walker all passed. Don’t even mention the Notorious RBG to be replaced with a woman who will do her level best to undo everything Ruth Bader Ginsburg accomplished in her lifetime. Stop, enough! We can’t continue in this vein. How can this be the way we approach the holiday season? There must be a better way.

You know what? We voted. We stood on long lines and cast our ballots for a better life. We had hope. We worked for change. We continued to connect with our family and friends in whatever way was available to us. We kept them in our thoughts and prayers. We worked to keep our loved ones safe as best we could. We tried to treat others with civility and consideration even though they could not see us smiling from behind our masks. We did not lose our senses of humor. We continued to laugh at ourselves and our predicament simply because we cannot live while crying and complaining all the time. We did our best not to surrender to depression and despair. We went outside and breathed the fresh air, maybe even worked up a sweat. Tony Fauci said it was OK to walk, run, and bike even without a mask, and he’s the man. And when we were outside, we discovered that there was a whole natural world that was blissfully ignorant of COVID. Birds still sang and nested, brooks still babbled, and leaves on trees changed from green to stunning reds and yellows. We could still wave at a neighbor and exchange a pleasant greeting, and somehow that made us feel better.

Now that’s better. Even in these times, we have some things to be thankful for. That’s the way to approach the holidays. Sure, 2020 has been a nightmare, but we are all still here. And who says we have to go? Personally, I intend to live forever. So far, so good. We’ve taken our hits, but we know that we can’t have everything. Where would we put it? And, you know, I’m not looking forward to returning to work in person anyway. I have a job in a factory that makes fire hydrants. Nice pay and benefits, but I can’t park anywhere near the place. Thank you, Steven Wright. You and countless other comics allow me to smile at the absurdity of existence. And that smile might just sustain me through the holidays all the way into 2021 (may that year bring us a well-deserved respite).