Thirteenth Resolution

Happy New Year!

This noon, blissfully still in bed, Jan asked me if I’d made any new years resolutions yet. I hadn’t made any new years resolutions in a half a century, I replied, with small idea whether or not my statement was quite true. I’ve made resolutions, but were they new years resolutions? Then Jan said that ‘eleven was OK, and she was ready to accept ‘twelve, but she didn’t like ‘thirteen.

“2011, 2012, 2013?”
“Yes,” she confirmed.

new year

“OK,” I said: “I’ll make a new years resolution for next year: Let’s stay in bed for the whole year: just sit out 2013.”

In fact, I thought, we should form a society: Slugabeds Against 2013: Just sit it out!
It would be very good if no one did anything for a year, might just save us. Don’t anyone drop a bomb, don’t anyone drive a block, let alone 30,000 miles.

Boy, did Jan and I look great at the dance last night! We had lots of pix taken of us, with any luck I’ll be able to post some examples. I sure hope some will show off our outfits. For the second New Years in a row, dinner and dancing at the American Legion once again, Jan had me outfitted in a fabulous tuxedo shirt, with my grandfather’s cufflinks and shirt studs, black pants, black socks, but no tux jacket, no tie, no cummerbund. Instead she’d given me a pair of silk paisley suspenders. I had a long silk cravat that matched very well. I wore it hanging, hanging long, from my right rear pocket, a luxurious-Tom-Sawyer sort of evening wear.

Paul & Jan, New Years 2012

I won’t try to describe Jan’s fabulous black trousers with subtle multicolor threads. The black blouse was gorgeous. The pairing was set off by a gray silk jacket. Cheap party beads provided by the Legion accented the whole perfectly: as well as any string of pearls would have. [Now the description is redundant, someone gave us a pic.]

Did we ever get compliments! and not just as-per-usual for our dancing. I got far more than my share of complements, like last year, from guys too! At one point I was mauled, felt up, my bottom patted and squeezed (in the guise of petting my silk pocket cravat) by a group of women at the bar.

Chat

About pk

Seems to me that some modicum of honesty is requisite to intelligence. If we look in the mirror and see not kleptocrats but Christians, we’re still in the same old trouble.
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