Welcome, welcome 2021!

    Please, come in. Take a (viral) load off. Put your feet up. Quarantini? I just finished Netflix so I’ve got plenty of time to talk about resolutions and such. Go on and get comfy in that ridiculously uncomfortable “treat myself” chair I bought online along with all my groceries and a tube of something that’s supposed to make my double chin disappear but smells like a tire patch.

    You may wonder why I’ve asked you here, so I’ll get right to the point. As you know, 2021, your predecessor sucked. Aside from the presidential election results, the development of vaccines to prevent Covid-19 and “The Queen’s Gambit,” 2020 was pretty much a projectile poo-show. And while I’m grateful for all three of those gifts, the ledger is still whop-sided, as we say in the South, and it’s up to you, 2021, to make things right. No presh. OK, some presh.

    I realize this is a mighty big ask, particularly for a year that lacks the glitz of ending in “0” or even “5” but I think you’re up to the task. You will be like George W. Bush. Sure, many will think you underperformed or even endangered us but, at the end of the day, history will be kind: You’re just a guy who paints weird animal pictures and wears socks with the face of his dog on them. We are soooo ready for that kind of mediocrity. Gimme.

    What’s that you ask, 2021? Why don’t I show you what I’m talking about? Thought you’d never ask.

    In 2021, I resolve to…

    MUSTER more enthusiasm for important things occurring in the sky. After stepping into the cold to observe the Jupiter/Saturn thingy I realized I didn’t know where “southwest” was. Thus, I missed the long-awaited “grand conjunction” which, says NASA, “occurs when two huge gas giants appear to be together but are actually millions of miles apart.” Which is exactly how I feel about me and Duh sometimes. Bada Boom!

    BE MORE open-minded, accommodating and measured in my responses when interacting with people who don’t share my deeply held personal belief that the current Republican party, shredded by Trump for all time and eternity, is now a fetid hot tub bubbling with a mephitic stew of racism, greed, domestic terrorism and willful ignorance. See? I can reach across the aisle with the best of ’em!

    LISTEN TO to young folks and don’t knee-jerk disparage them like the huge gas giants on Facebook, many of whom I went to high school with. There’s honestly nothing funnier than seeing the guy who used to sell shrooms in high school get all red-faced because he thinks AOC paid too much for a haircut “considering she’s a Communist.” As Moira Schitt might say: “Whither a repository capacious enough to accommodate such betise?” We can learn a lot from young folks. Not all of them, but a gracious plenty of them.


Celia Rivenbark was touched by the response to last week’s column. Happily, the Princess has recovered from Covid. Stay safe, y’all. Seriously.