Imagine a Hallmark Christmas movie. It’s about a beautiful and scrappy Southern single mom who falls for a city slicker who lives in New York City. He says that he is a writer and photographer which apparently doesn’t mean the same thing in the North because it doesn’t require making a real living. Still, being an aw-shucks optimist, she thinks that he is the bee’s knees. He actually adores her too, but whenever he finds himself in a real relationship, he always has one foot mired in doubt. He constantly says stuff like, “this is too complicated,” “we live in different cities,” “we don’t like the same movies,” and things like that.
Eventually, our Southern heroine gets fed up with the New Yorker’s negative thinking, and as Christmas approaches, through pure serendipity, she meets a divorced Southern gentleman who only lives ten minutes from her home.
He is perfect. He loves the same football teams as her son and he can whip up the best fried chicken in minutes. Most importantly, he knows how to treat a lady. They make plans for Christmas together.
Meanwhile, back in the city of the birthplace of Trump, the evil city slicker, a complete ne’er-do-well with the carpetbagging black heart of a true Yankee, is suddenly awoken with jealous feelings. He sends her emails trying to make her feel guilty for finding her own happiness, attempting to manipulate her with the fancy words he picked up at some Ivy League university. What will our heroine do? Who will she choose? The true and honest local boy with the heart of grits, or the fast-talking neurotic big city jerk who only wants what he can’t have?
I think we know the end of that movie. I mean if it is a Hallmark Christmas Movie and not some Martin Scorcese film.
That was my 2016. I am the villain. Which usually is the best role in a movie. But not in real life.
I didn’t blog that much. I have no blogging recap like in the old days.
That was my 2016.
Oh, yeah, in November, I went to Hillary Clinton’s Big Election Night Ball at the Javits Center where she was to be crowned the next leader of America.
That was my 2016.
Also, I took a lot of photographs. Some came out good.
But I’m healthy. My mom is healthy. Most of my friends are healthy. And I’m still friends with the Southern girl. So, it wasn’t that bad.
Ah, Neil, you are layers of interesting, honest, seeking, searching, yearning, and just fine at the same time. I am happy I know you, and I love the times we have been able to sit and talk. Happy New year, my friend, all the best to you in 2017.
Sounds like a good year to me. Healthy and still friends.
Sending love, Neil. And if it’s any consolation, 2016 was the year best skipped for all of us. Which means that 2017 has got to be better, right?
Glad you guys are still friends. She did sound superstar awesome; I didn’t know about the movie discrepancy, but that wouldn’t be a big problem since I happily go to movies on my own. Unless she was a big Gump fan or something.
I’m always glad to read what you write. Here’s to a 2017 that knocks your socks off.
Carpet-baggers were exploitative and commercial, so that’s not you. This post is the type of thing your therapist would appreciate. Every one has issues, but not every one recognizes theirs. You’re willing to claim yours. Kudos.