Chuck Berry, Harry Dean Stanton (my first marriage was doomed when we watched Paris, Texas, the night we got engaged), the original Batman, Adam West, and so many others.
Yet for all these cultural touchstones, the new year focuses on each of us and what we can do to contribute. We’re told to collaborate, yet the people many remember are ridiculously individualistic. What I’ve learned, or trying to learn, is gratitude and compassion (to others and myself, and go forward and be myself).
I spent my 55th birthday in my usual Friday therapy group as we learn to live with and use the demons we all carry.
It was also my mom’s birthday, our wedding anniversary, and other things.
That’s far too much so close to Christmas.
Under the radar was the death of Johnny Bower, the Toronto Maple Leafs goalie who was one of my heroes.
He was 93-years-old.
Everyone knew Johhny was the Santa at the Leafs annual Christmas skate, because he wore goalie skates (which are still more comfortable to me than the other skates, despite the lack of edges).
As we say in group, we’re still here, have plenty to contribute, and there’s a whole bunch of others who should be in therapy but aren’t.
I’m going to delve further into doing my own thing in the New Year, because I made enough money for a bit, and see what happens.