(New York–NY) Someone asked me this New Year’s Eve (Or to be accurate, I guess I should correctly say last New Year’s Eve. We haven’t had New Year’s Eve 2008 yet.) what my resolution was? Maybe it was one too many Ketel One Koolers, but I said “not to die.”
Can you tell I possess a cheery optimism? As is exhibited by the follow-up from said above person after hearing the answer to question one, “Boy, aren’t you a ray of sunshine!” I think it was that, because the DJ was cranking the 89th house mix of “I Want Candy.” So, it could have been that or “Why don’t you drink a glass of turpentine.” Since the sentiment of both statements is pretty much the same, I choose the more positive. See, I’m not that much of a pessimist. But I digress. What was my point? It seems that my memory along with my 38-waist size was left behind in 2007.
Oh…the answer to the question posed to me by said person. It has to do with my philosophy on life. I don’t see the glass as half empty or half full. I see the glass as broken on the floor with shards of tiny glass embedded in my carpet that I’ll never be able to get out no matter how hard I try. And months later, I will be walking barefoot on my carpet, and a shard will stick in my foot. It being dirty, I will get an infection. And this will start a long process of amputation to preserve my quality of life only to end me up in a bed jealous of Richard Dreyfus’s character’s lot in “Whose Life Is It Anyway?” But here’s the Kevorkian cocktail nightcap. The woman I put this to on New Year’s Eve still wanted me to buy her a drink? Who says love is dead?
Let me be clear. My kicking off has nothing to do with the “to die to sleep” bit. Will I know or won’t I? The thing about avoiding the potential 365 days (and this year we get one extra) of tragedy is that while I may others I care about may not, and THAT’S the killer. Yes, I must pun. And the older I get and avoid the Big Sleep the more the people I have cared about who have not. I don’t believe in survivor guilt, unless it’s Tina feeling it when she stole the million bucks away from Colby because of his misdirected, bonehead loyalty. (I see a few fans out there nodding knowingly.)
No. I don’t believe in survivor guilt. I believe in survivor misery, loss, alienation…fill in the blank. I’ve lost my mother, father, one brother and a wife, but that was intentional. Now, just imagine if I had kicked. No loss for Ed. Hell, some people might have even said some nice things about me. And me, dead Ed, I figure either I won’t know, or I’ll know everything. I prefer Socrates’ rationalization of shot gunning the hemlock as opposed to Hamlet whining about should or shouldn’t he off himself. Pick a side. Who are you the John Kerry of Denmark?
So let it be known before all. I am changing my New Year’s Resolution. In 2008, I won’t mind dieing. Of course, maybe by saying that I may be hoping for the old reverse jinx. Who knows? And for those of you who were wondering about the fair lady on New Year’s Eve. Jade Escorts between gigs. I’d have done the Gentleman’s thing, but my AMEX card was maxed out.
Happy 2008 (‘!” or “?”, your choice) to all!
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