Happy New Year 2026

Does anybody really know what time it is?

In my foggy old mind, I've been trying to think what to say for the beginning of another year, how to sum up my thoughts and feelings at this turn in the road. Once again, I have been surprised to find that I already said all that as well I as could ever do. So with a few changes, I'm reprinting last year's post, for whatever it's worth.

The quiet days at the end of the year have always been a time of retreat and reflection for me.  This past year, a dark new era has begun, and the old certainties have gone out the window -- no one can be sure what will come next.  

The world has been in a parlous state all my adult life, what with wars and rumors of wars, crisis upon crisis, rebellion here, revolt there, and no end of foolishness among the peoples and leaders of the world.  And yet, at some points there has been greater hope for the future than seems apparent just now.

Somehow, I have lived through many years of light and shadow, joys and sorrows, ups and downs, to be a very old man.  And I have learned that nothing is guaranteed but change.  The currents of human affairs are always shifting, now quickly, now slowly, like the winds and the waves; the pendulum is always swinging to and fro.  

Human nature does not change; if it did, we would have become a different kind of critter long ago.  But the world around us is always in flux.  Moderation and balance, the middle way, is the best course to follow, but fools young and old are always chasing after something "new and different" - which soon enough they despise as "that old stuff."  So the old lessons must be learned anew by every generation.

Human life is a mixed bag, a game of skill and chance - win, lose, or draw, you have to play the hand you are dealt, and do the best you can.  Have fun, but don't be a prick.  Be honest, fair, and kind to everyone.  Do your part, don't leave a mess, and mind your own damn business.

That's it.  That's the wisdom of the world, in a nutshell.  Take it or leave it.  There are other, spiritual truths worth knowing as well, but you'll have to find those on your own.  (But beware of fakers and fanatics, who are legion.)

When I was a kid, I used to think it would be a fine thing one day to be old and wise.  Well, in a way it is somewhat satisfying to finally have seen through the world and all its illusions - to see things and people as they really are, not just what you imagine them to be.  

But at this late age, it doesn't do you much good.  Your body and your finances (unless you are exceptionally lucky) don't allow you to do much with all that wisdom.  And nobody wants to hear what an old man has to say.  So you just keep it to yourself, mainly, while you contemplate the view from the top of the mountain.

When you have lived into old age, you can feel the rhythm of time passing:  a river always flowing, a cycle of stars always revolving above our heads and the earth rotating under our feet.  Generations come and go; empires rise and fall; war alternates with peace; wisdom and folly, love and hate, poverty and plenty, life and death - the wheel keeps on turning, endlessly, regardless of our petty wants and wishes here on this little rock in the vast depth of the cosmos.  

A rather frightening picture, if we are not in tune with the Love that moves the sun and other stars, as Dante put it.  And that Love is closer than breathing, nearer than hands and feet - if you are willing to believe. And I do.

We can't be sure what 2026 holds in store for us; but no matter what comes or goes, we can each be true to the goodness within us, and do small things with great love - with gratitude for all the good things we have.  So here's wishing all my truckbuddies health, happiness, and peace in the New Year.  God bless you all.

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Happy New Year 2025

M.P. and I are 2 down and 2 to go:  we had all the kids and kiddos over for Yule Dinner on Sunday the 22nd, and then after we recuperated from that feast, had our own Christmas Dinner on Sunday the 29th - which about did us in.  Now we are hoping to have a New Year's dinner tomorrow, and next week a Kings Day dinner if we are able.  No pics yet because M.P.'s so-called smart phone is on strike; maybe next week I'll have some photos to blog.

---  ooo  000  ooo  ---

The quiet days at the end of the year have always been a time of retreat and reflection for me.  This year, it seems the end of an era, not just another year -- for reasons obvious to all my truckbuddies, I'm sure.  This is the calm before the storm.

The world has been in a parlous state all my adult life, what with wars and rumors of wars, crisis upon crisis, rebellion here, revolt there, and no end of foolishness among the peoples and leaders of the world.  And yet, at some points there has been greater hope for the future than seems apparent just now.

Here at the beginning of my eighth decade, it is poignant to look back at myself at the dawn of manhood, and remember what it felt like, what I thought, what I hoped.  How strange to say that I can even show you what I looked like fifty years ago:  is that callow fellow really Me?

All grown up and still unkissed:  Russ in Jackson Square, New Orleans, 1974

It would have broken my heart to know then the cruel twists and turns that lay ahead in the road of life.  But they say that suffering develops faith and character.  If nothing else, it certainly turns your hair gray.

Well, leaving out all the boring details, of no interest to anyone but me - and even I'm tired of hearing the story - I have somehow lived through many years of light and shadow, joys and sorrows, to be a very old man.  Human life is always a mixed bag - win, lose, or draw, you have to play the hand you are dealt, and do the best you can.  Have fun, but don't be a prick.  Do your part, don't leave a mess, and mind your own damn business.

That's it.  That's the wisdom of the world, in a nutshell.  Take it or leave it.  There are other, spiritual truths worth knowing as well, but you have to find those on your own.

When I was a kid, I used to think it would be a fine thing one day to be old and wise.  Well, in a way it is somewhat satisfying to finally have seen through the world and all its illusions - to see things and people as they really are, not just what you imagine them to be.  

But at this late age, it doesn't do you much good.  Your body and your finances (unless you are exceptionally lucky) don't allow you to do much with all that wisdom.  And nobody wants to hear what an old man has to say.  So you just keep it to yourself, mainly.  

There are many things I've wanted to say these last few years about recent developments in the world and in this country in particular.  But what good would it do?  When the herd decides to stampede, you can risk your neck trying to stop them, or you can stay out of the way and just let them run on till they get tired of running.  Thank God it's not my job to fix the world.  Even He has his hands full with that chore, I suppose.

When you have lived into old age, you can feel the rhythm of time passing:  a river always flowing, a cycle of stars always revolving above our heads and the earth rotating under our feet.  Empires rise and fall; war alternates with peace; wisdom and folly, love and hate, poverty and plenty, life and death - the wheel keeps on turning, endlessly, regardless of our petty wants here on this little rock in the vast depth of the cosmos.  

A rather frightening picture, if we are not in sync with the Love that moves the sun and other stars, as Dante put it.  And that Love is closer than breathing, nearer than hands and feet - if you are willing to believe.  

We can't be sure what 2025 holds in store for us; but no matter what comes or goes, we can each be true to the goodness within us, and do small things with great love.  So here's wishing all my truckbuddies health, wealth, and happiness in the New Year and in all the years to come.  God bless.

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The Pork Boys Do the Holidays

As usual, the Pork Boys enjoyed a raft of delicious meals for Christmas, New Year's, and Kings' Day, all made from scratch by M.P., resident chef extraordinaire.

Unfortunately, your Head Trucker has gotten pretty lax in the picture-taking department, so we don't have a comprehensive set of pics.  I'm posting these here mainly just for our own future reference.

M.P. knocks himself out cooking these holiday meals, but now he is pooped and swears he won't cook another thing the rest of this month.  But he always comes up with some new culinary idea before February arrives.  I wish all my truckbuddies, and everyone in the world, could enjoy such delightful repasts.

Yule Dinner for M.P.'s kids and grandkids:

M.P. made a beautiful charcuterie platter with meats, cheeses, nuts, olives, and dried fruit.

M.P.'s clever rearrangement of the front room makes it possible now to seat 14 without crowding at the holidays.

Sunday Drive: You'll Never Walk Alone / I Believe

As performed by the Righteous Brothers, 1965:

Well, fellas, another year has come and gone.  Strange to say, it's now more than half a century since I graduated from high school, more than 40 years since I finished college.  I'm sure many of my truckbuddies share my astonishment at the simple fact of having lived so long, sailed so far beyond the golden days of youth we hoped would last forever.  But after crossing seven decades, are we any wiser, any better, any happier here on this little planet?

I had intended to write a post today about changing times, the parlous state of the world, and what an awful mess it is.  But despite my strong objections to the folly, stupidity, and cruelty of left and right alike, this old man just doesn't have the heart to write that essay.  I could point out many things done wrong or going wrong - but what good would it do?  As in every era, the world is running on as it pleases, and no amount of admonition from me will make any difference.  One might as well try to halt the ebb and flow of the tides.

What I can do, however, is to live out my faith here in this little bungalow with M.P., doing my part to keep us going in good health, good cheer, and modest comfort - grateful for all the quiet blessings we have.  So instead of weighting this blog with dreary lamentations, perhaps it is better just to keep silent about the follies and sorrows of this rotten old world, and instead to offer a happy or hopeful thought now and then:  flowers by the wayside, stars in the night.

The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.

Simply to brighten the corner where you are is a good thought, and a useful one, especially for an old man who doesn't get out of the house much.  So to all my truckbuddies and drive-by readers, I wish a New Year of peace and happiness and hope for a better future.  

Thanks for riding along with me in the Blue Truck.  God bless you all.

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Answer Desk: What We Had

Question:  So like, what was the BFD about all that?  Seems like nothing much happened.  Can't you even post a pic of the two of you together?

Answer:  This is what we had and lost:

 

Christian and Olli were characters in a German soap opera.  

We looked nothing like them, but the passion was the same.

That kind of love is the divine flame at its brightest and hottest.

It burns deep.  It cuts to the quick.  It penetrates and glorifies.

It melds and molds and fuses two hearts into one.  

It's more than physical, more than thought

More than words and bodies

More than touching 

More than feeling

It's knowing

It's home

To lose your other half is mortal agony.

If you survive, if blood and breath remain, then

You can live again, love again, laugh again.

But you will sometimes cry again.

Love will not let you go.

Fighting, yelling, kissing, crying, fucking, facing off:

"Why'd it have to be you?" I said through my tears.

"Why'd it have to be you?" he replied through his.

But I'm okay today. I've reflected and processed a lot in the past week. Realized how far I've come, and how much stronger I am now.  

And we've - how can I say this without sounding sappy? - well, I'll just say I know now that he's finally okay, and it's okay between us. I don't have to keep him locked out of my heart anymore, no longer have to bar the doors against his approach.  The barb wire's down.

What's past is done, gone, forgiven on both sides.  The war's over: peace has come.  The hurt is gone.  What was lost is found.

We're good again.  Here again.

Love is stronger than death.

And that's a good way to start the new year: with a clear head, quiet heart, and gratitude for this happy life M.P. and I share.  It's all good.

New Year's blessings and best wishes to all my truckbuddies.

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This is post 2 of 4

Post 1    Post 3    Post 4

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The Pork Boys Do the Holidays

We are resting and recuperating this week after a time of feasting and celebration through the holiday season just past.  Here are some pics and menus to record what all Chef M.P. conjured up, which was heartily enjoyed by all, and not least by your Head Trucker - who washed the dishes.   

First of all was our Yule dinner, the biggest feast of the year, held on December 19th for M.P.'s four children and their spouses (or spouse-equivalents) and four pint-sized grandchildren.  That makes quite a crowd in our little bungalow, but somehow they all managed to squeeze in and have a good time.  Such a good time was had, in fact, that we took only one picture:  

These two entrees were a big hit.  Our guests devoured every last bite.
You should understand that M.P. cured the ham himself from a pork loin, which took weeks to do.  And he used a succulent beef tenderloin in the Wellington, carefully tenderized in a long marinade of wine and herbs.  Click to enlarge.

Here is the full menu, which M.P. exerted himself mightily for days to prepare, along with decorating the house inside and out:

Baked Ham with Orange-Apricot Glaze 

Beef Wellington 

Colcannon 

Asparagus with Hollandaise Sauce 

Waldorf Salad 

Homemade Yeast Rolls

Assorted Cheesecakes 

The young people brought the cheesecakes, along with a variety of beers and wines, foreign and domestic.

Then a week later, M.P. and I had our own little Christmas dinner - here is what the table looked like:

The green pointy thing in the bowl is a dinner napkin, very meticulously wrapped and rolled to resemble a little Christmas tree - very charming.  Below is a lightened crop of it.

Several years ago, the children gave M.P. this lovely electric fireplace, and that is definitely the way to go - no fuss, no muss, just click the remote and presto, instant warmth and cheer.

The canard rouge and jambalaya, hot out of the oven and oh so delicious!

The meal actually began with Cream of Green Soup, which is made from pureed green beans - I know it doesn't sound so great, but believe me, it's luscious.

At left, diced candied butternut squash; at right, Brussels sprouts a la Polonaise

From six o'clock:  duck with stuffing and gravy, pineapple casserole, homemade croissant and honey butter, Brussels sprouts, butternut squash.

The piece de resistance:  Our favorite chocolate mousse cake, made from scratch, of course, with homemade whipped cream and a dollop of sugared raspberries. 
Ooh la la!

A week later, having had some duck egg rolls in the meantime, we enjoyed our New Year's feast:

The table setting, with a piece of royal blue velvet in the center.

From six o'clock:  fried chicken livers, baked sweet potato and butter, grits and gravy, black-eyed peas.  Chicken livers, grits, and gravy are not a Southern tradition for New Year's Day - but it was all just so doggone good, we promptly decided it will be OUR tradition from here on!

A delicious big pot of gumbo aux herbes, sometimes called gumbo zerbes, which includes five types of greens and pieces of smoked sausage.  Talk about good!  These were served in a separate bowl.

One of my Christmas presents to M.P. was a cast-iron pan for making corn sticks, which he promptly put to good use just like his mama used to do.

A picture of our Christmas tree, full of peacocks and blue birds, and maybe some partridges and pears.  I should have taken a closeup or two.  It was really lovely at night, strung with blue and white lights.

But wait, there's more.  Last Sunday we had our Kings' Day feast with three crowns on the table, of course.

From six o'clock:  breaded pork schnitzel with cream gravy; crown roll (M.P. simply snipped the top three times with scissors before baking); buttered new potatoes; stuffed eggplant; and green lima beans with tomatoes.

And so we well and truly celebrated the holidays, with gratitude for good thing, and have spent the last week recuperating from all the exertion!  But it was fun, and the time passed happily.  I hope all my truckbuddies ate as well and enjoy a happy and prosperous New Year from here on out.

Happy New Year!

Another year has passed into history, and who knows what changes and chances the future will bring?   Whatever it may hold, let us savor peace and celebrate the joy of living when we can, with those we love.  In the scheme of the universe, we are all only here for a little while.

Here's wishing health, wealth, and happiness to all my truckbuddies in the New Year. 

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Happy New Year 2021

 

Well, fellas, at last we have reached the end of a tumultuous year, a time to pause and reflect on where we have been and what we have learned; yet the relentless spiral of Time goes on and on - for better or worse, who can say?  

Your Head Trucker is not completely in sync with the frantic modern world, its frenzies, follies, or fashions, but one has to make the best of it.  Like leaves floating on a stream, sometimes calm, sometimes rapid, we are carried along with the flow of changes and chances in this mortal life, helpless to stem the flood of Time that bears us ever onward, like it or not.

It is always the best of times and the worst of times:  annus mirabilis to some, annus horribilis to others.  Let us pray that this coming year will at least be a better one - and more peaceful - than the one now ending.  I wish good health, good luck, and good cheer to all my truckbuddies around the world - and I thank you all for rolling along with me here in the Blue Truck.  God bless.

The Feast of the Holy Name

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The Pork Boys Do New Year's and Kings' Day

This holiday season just ended has been a most pleasant time for us - despite the usual mad rush of shopping, cooking, cleaning, and all the hassles of making and serving four festive meals in three weeks, somehow things seemed to go more smoothly and easily this year, with a minimum of frustration and exhaustion.  Why this was, I really can't say - perhaps we have finally learned how to do enough without trying to do too much for the holidays.  In any case, it was a blessed time, for which we were very grateful after a year of ups and downs, spills and pills, and all the usual frustrations that come with advancing age.

I should have posted our New Year's dinner last week, but we just relaxed instead, enjoying some peaceful days here in our quiet abode, sleeping late and doing a whole lot of delicious nothing.  And before anyone dares to wag a censorious finger, just stop and think:  if everyone, high and low, all round the globe had spent the last few weeks following our example, would that not have contributed a great deal to world peace?  I believe it was Dr. Johnson who said that most of the evils of the world arise because men are not content to sit peacefully at home beside their own hearth-fires.

Be that as it may, here is a combined summary of our two most recent feasts.

1.  New Year's Day 

Fresh greens - five kinds plus some chopped turnip stems.

Eckridge cheese sausage simmered in bouillon.

Greens + sausage + some culinary wizardry = fabulous Gumbo Z'erbes,
the scrumptious New Orleans dish.

Continued after the jump . . .

New Year's Eve 2019

It occurred to me yesterday with a shock that after midnight tonight, my life will have spanned eight calendar decades, or parts thereof - though I am only a youngster in my sixties.  How extraordinary.

The years pass by quickly now, as my grandmother warned me they would.  Sometimes one might wish to say, O beautiful time, stop and linger - but like birds on a fence, the moments of life flicker and are gone before one can speak a word.

I had intended to close the year with some philosophical ruminations - but the clock is running out on me, and really, I have nothing new to offer beyond what many other older and wiser men have already said about time and life and love here on this small and fractious planet.

On the whole, it has been a happy year for M.P. and me, despite assorted health problems and financial difficulties at various times - but for the moment all those worries have subsided, and we are spending the holidays in quiet comfort and good cheer, thanks be to God.

So among the anxious changes and chances of this transitory world, I will end by simply wishing all my truckbuddies health, wealth, and happiness in the new year--and I leave you with this timely quotation from the fourth inaugural address of President Franklin D. Roosevelt in 1945:

I remember that my old schoolmaster, Dr. Peabody, said, in days that seemed to us then to be secure and untroubled: "Things in life will not always run smoothly. Sometimes we will be rising toward the heights--then all will seem to reverse itself and start downward. The great fact to remember is that the trend of civilization itself is forever upward; that a line drawn through the middle of the peaks and the valleys of the centuries always has an upward trend."

An Epigraph for the New Year

The world is in a sorry state, and does not seem likely to improve itself anytime soon. The American government is shut down, and the British government is tearing itself apart. This does not bode well for the peace or security of the human race, but what can anyone do about it? The population in both countries seems hopelessly polarized, and the center cannot hold, it seems, for much longer. The dawn of the new year is clouded with uncertainty, and who knows what sort of future will come lurching out of the mists and gloom?

I have no answers. All I know is that as long as we have strength and hope, we should do what we can to make our own corner of the world sane and safe, and that begins with loving our neighbors - or if that is too much to ask, then loving our nearest and dearest - whom we are most likely to take for granted. It is good sometimes to stop and consider the true meaning of the much-parodied, much-derided phrase "Charity begins at home."

While we cannot choose our families, we can choose our friends - and regardless of how many or few of either there are in our life at any given time, the thing that really matters, beyond all social and political questions, is how we treat one another. Life is a passing thing - but love endures and propagates itself in countless untold ways down the years, from heart to heart and from soul to soul, parent to child and friend to friend.

So in this uncertain world, let us love while we can and whom we can, for we are all of us merely creatures of a day.  We all know what we would like to get from this transitory life - but what do we have to give?

The dear old Queen, God bless her, said something in one of her recent Christmas messages that I keep reflecting upon. I offer it here to my truckbuddies as an epigraph for the new year before us:

Not all of us can do great things; but we can do small things with great love.

Happy New Year 2019

Well, fellas, another year has rolled by, much too quickly it seems, and here we are at the gate of 2019 already.  What my grandmother told me is true:  the older you get, the quicker the years go by.  It is a curious fact that Time moves too slow for leaping youth, too fast for tottering age.

I'm glad to report that 2018 was, all things considered, a pretty happy year for us.  The weather was milder than usual, finances were a bit easier, and M.P. recovered fairly rapidly from his operation last January.  Of course his first thought was to get back into the kitchen, so we have had many and various toothsome feasts since then:  a lot to be thankful for.

The world is in a frightful state - but then, isn't it always?  When I started this blog ten years ago, I thought it a great opportunity to set the world straight on all sorts of matters; but alas, I'm sorry to report that all my best typing has done no good, and the world continues roaring down its heedless path, ignoring all good counsel, even from wiser heads than mine.  The Golden Rule, the Golden Mean, good sense, and good humor are all a drug on the market in this present age, it seems.

The leafless branches outside my window testify that the eternal cycle of growth, maturity, and decay continues on and on, as much for civilizations as for individuals; yet somehow, even in the darkest periods, the human race always finds a way to continue on, for better or worse, through successive tides of change.  Since I have no posterity to worry about, I suppose there is no point fretting over things I cannot change.  Hence, I blog less and rant less.  Why waste my breath?

But I am gratified now and then to discover that goodness and kindness still exist, side by side with wickedness and cruelty: pinpoints of light in a dark night.  At any rate, much as I deplore the many awful things that happen in this frenzied, frantic, foolish age, I am too old, tired, and poor to do anything about them.  So I just do the little good I can do for those nearest me, and leave the rest to the mercy of Providence.

As someone once said, in the midst of a world of sorrow and absurdity, we must each cultivate our own garden, and be content with that.  Like the flowers, fruits, and leaves, we all of us have our day in the sun, and then we are no more; but others will take our place.  The cycle of Time rolls on unperturbed in its steady course, with or without our consent, and no doubt that is as it should be.  The flowers do not understand why they should fade, nor the leaves why they should wither; but fade and wither they must, as night follows day and winter follows summer.  The whys and the wherefores are not given us to comprehend in this world; instead, the spark of life is given us for only a day in the grand scheme of things, to make of it what we will.  We must therefore enjoy what we have while we have it, without squelching someone else's chance at happiness.  It takes many flowers to make a lovely garden.

So here's wishing my truckbuddies, all and singular, a happy, healthy, and prosperous New Year.  Drinks are on the house!

Or feel free to BYOB:

Happy New Year 2018

It's been a happy but tiring week here - M.P. and I had our little Christmas ham and other goodies last Monday, then spent the rest of the week preparing for the big feast yesterday, when we hosted his four grown children, their spouses, and his three little grandchildren, ages 4, 2, and 3 months, who were adorable - and full of pep even when the older generations were dragging.

Needless to say, today we slept in, and awoke to discover the outside temperature in the 20's - it won't be above freezing again until Wednesday, but fortunately there is no snow or ice in the forecast. As it is, even with the thermostat cranked up, we can't seem to get the inside temperature above 60, but that's bearable with flannel shirts and pants. M.P. has already begun cooking our New Years' dinner for tomorrow, a fine mess of gumbo 'zerbes and the hambone from last week, plus of course blackeyed peas and baked sweet potatoes and corn muffins, so the kitchen is toasty warm.

I had intended to end the year with a thought-piece on old times, new times, and the dismaying state of the world at this point in history - oh, but I really don't have the psychic energy for all that, and besides, you fellas surely have your own memories, hopes, and fears to contend with already. But sometimes grace happens just when things are darkest, offering light and a way out - and meanwhile life goes on.  Whether the present time is to our liking or not, we must all simply make the best of things, and do what good we can, great or small, for ourselves and those we love, and do it with cheerfulness and courage if possible. I guess I really have nothing more to say than that.

All good wishes to my truckbuddies for health, wealth, and happiness in 2018, and a world at peace.

Happy New Year, 2017

Though ominous clouds seem to be gathering all around this weary old globe of Earth, here's wishing health, wealth, peace, and prosperity to all my truckbuddies in the coming year, along with sincere thanks for keeping up with my scribblings here in the Blue Truck. God bless.

Sung by Dougie Maclean.

Happy New Year 2016

Here's wishing health, wealth, and happiness to all my truckbuddies in the coming year.

Happy New Year, 2015

Here's wishing peace, prosperity, and much love throughout the new year to all my truckbuddies.

Happy New Year!

Edie Windsor, whose Supreme Court victory has made and will make
a fabulous difference in the lives of many.

Well, it's been quite a watershed year for gay rights in this country, and at the moment same-sex marriage is legal in 18 states plus the District of Columbia. Something that was just a figment of the imagination when I came out, 34 years ago - an impossible dream. It all comes too late to do much good for me, but I'm glad I have lived to see this day, knowing full well the difference it will make in the lives of millions of gay couples now, and in generations to come.

From Texas to all my truckbuddies around the nation and the world, here's wishing each of you a happy, healthy, and prosperous New Year.  I'm taking a little time off from blogging, so in the meantime, keep sailing gaily forward - and enjoy your life.

Looking Back: 2012

Sometimes, in that gray twilight between sleeping and waking, you think of the bad things that happen in the world, and have gone on happening since the first recorded history, and will keep on happening no matter what anybody says or does: the madhouse of human existence.

And you think of all the grief and sorrow that people have had to bear, and the anguish and the unanswered prayers, and the pain and the hurt and the injustice that haunts mankind's existence everywhere, and always has.

And then you think of those who seem to live a charmed life, with all they need and want, and every wish fulfilled. It's not the fat cats and the millionaires you think of, whom you never see except in reports from faraway places. It's the people you pass on the street, or down the block, or distant relations, not one whit smarter or prettier or wiser or more moral than you - in many cases, quite a bit less so - and yet, they ease through life as if they have a genie in their pocket to grant all their desires.

But your lips do not move to form a protest - no one would listen. Nor can you even ask why - because you know there is no answer. Not even prayer helps, because the last answer is that now we darkly know, but then we shall see clearly, in another life where all will be made right.  You hope so.

But it is cold comfort on this gray and drizzly morning, 36 degrees outside. And yet you do find some scant cheer in making yourself remember the happy moments interspersed with all that has gone wrong. You think of carnivals, and roller coasters, and catherine wheels, and understand that all is in perpetual flux, now happy, now sad, now merry, now pained. For no particular reason that you can ever fathom, nor anyone else. Life is what it is, a fun house, a madhouse, a charnel house, by turns. All you can do is enjoy the good times when they come, and not wish for more when they end.

Because the world is going to keep rolling on along in its usual helter-skelter way, no matter what you think about it. So there's no point complaining. It does no good, and nobody wants to hear it.

This past year has been one of good news for the gays, one might even say an annus mirabilis in some ways. It's good to look back now on how far we've come in the last twelve months - and in the forty years or so since I first put together the words "gay" and "me."

First, a review of progress on marriage equality in these United States:



The Washington Blade has compiled a collection of articles on the top national stories of 2012.

And from Towleroad, a list of the fifty most notable "coming-outs" of the year. Most of them, your Head Trucker doesn't recognize, but the more out, the better.

So that's the way it goes, up and down and round and round. And the clock keeps ticking all the time, with a fine indifference.  Hope all you guys have a good New Year. Enjoy what you have while you have it, and savor the sweetness while it lasts. What more can anyone do?

Pieter Claesz, Vanitas with Violin and Glass Ball, ca. 1628

TV Legends: Dick Clark

It's just come to my attention that Dick Clark's New Year's Rockin' Eve is now forty years old.  My God . . . where does the time go?  When you are young, the future seems to stretch out ahead to an infinite distance; but when you are old, you realize the road was not a very long one at all:  more like a few blocks down a wide, busy boulevard.  Which is why you should certainly enjoy your youth while you have it for that wonderful moment.  Don't be an asshole, but don't be a monk, either.  You will certainly live to regret either one.

Your Head Trucker hasn't watched television for nearly twenty years now - by deliberate choice, though I have rented plenty of videos, and now use Netflix - so it really hadn't occurred to me to wonder whether Dick Clark was still doing the New Year's Eve show.  I just pulled up a tape of this year's program, and was shocked - I had no idea he had had a stroke.  But God bless him, he's still keeping on keeping on, a real trouper.

Here's a short clip from a long interview with Clark in 1999 at the Archive of American Television, where he discusses the creation of the show, back in 1972:




(Confidentially . . . I still miss Guy Lombardo.  Anyone else remember the Royal Canadians?)

Happy New Year: Enivrez-Vous

Tonight, as we step by forced march into the future, and the present inexorably glides away into the past, I am reminded of this poem by Charles Baudelaire, here recited so well in English by the young Dean Stockwell:




French original and English translation here, if you want to read it.

I think also of Keats's Ode to a Nightingale, which you can listen to here, read by the wonderful Robert Donat.

Have a good one, fellas.

Tempus Fugit by Henry Stacy Marks