Ride… …I’d like to ride again someday,
I think I still know how to play,
I play games now, but it’s not fun,
A cowboy’s work is never done
Sonny Bono
Somehow, when I woke up this morning and looked at the datebook, I found it to be my 65th birthday.
Sixty. Fucking. Five. That pretty much says it all.
On the bright side, at least I woke up.
Yup, did that.
By the caprices of the calendar, I reach this milestone amid considerable chaos – most exemplified by tomorrow’s quadrennial election – the wildest such affair since… …well at least since that 2020 monkey circus.
So, everyone will be distracted, and as it happens, it appears I will spend most, if not all day riding solo. I think I can live with this, but as a special, once in every 6.5 decade treat to myself, I’m gonna pile more than the usual set of digressions into this note.
I have a few birthday wishes, if anyone cares to know of them. I wanna stop short of calling them my Bucket List. Because. I. Just. Can’t.
For one thing, I’d like to catch up with a few long forgotten, marginal players in my life’s history.
Like the guy from 4th Grade who spent all day, all year, bouncing off the walls with two magic markers (the active ingredient of which, at the time was airplane glue) up his nose.
Or an old work colleague who – unfortunately it must be told – had accumulated enough DUIs to ensure his permanent loss of license on his next offense. Enterprising fellow that he was, he worked out a system under which, at the end of his daily homebound MTA commute, he’d bolt for the bar at the train station, chug down five shots of Makers Mark, sprint to his car and speed home in time to arrive within the seven- minute window he calculated it would take before the alcohol reached his bloodstream.
Or my college acquaintance, Pete, who after an especially energetic night of debauch, stumbled into his bed – only to find out that he had done so at the wrong house, causing its rightful owner considerable horror and Pete serious bodily injury.
I do wonder how them cats are doing.
I also would very much like, if only once more in my lifetime, to wander the main campus of Columbia University – where I both studied and taught, and whose quad I have stomped over for more than forty years. One needs a pass to enter the premises these days, and (having trekked up there on Friday) I find that even alumni/former faculty status will not avail you of ingress.
I’d like the Bears to beat the Packers. Just once.
I would also love for the surviving members of The Faces (Rod the Mod, Woody and Can Smasher Jones) to do a farewell tour – more than 50 years after their last engagement.
There’s a sizeable list of folks to whom I’d like to speak my mind, and it’s possible that I may do so with one or two of them. But only if: a) happenstance so specifies; and b) I can authentically convince myself that the cost (perhaps substantial) of doing so is likely to fall short of the elusive, uncertain benefit.
I reckon I’ll be watching the markets this week, but don’t expect any clarity. I won’t again reiterate the reasons behind my concern that the outcome will be disputed to the point of disruption (though they remain valid), but I’m even more certain that we won’t know the full outcome for days or weeks – particularly at the Congressional level.
I’m gonna further wish for a split government result, because I truly believe that a unified coalition accruing to either side will do little useful and inflict much damage.
I also, as I blow out my candles will hope that the incoming administration energetically supports Israel, realizing, in doing so (among other matters) that while that forlorn sliver of land is Ground Zero for now, the ultimate objective of the other side is the damage/destruction of the United States itself.
I hope the Fed keeps it tight and that elected officials resist the temptation to distribute mad bennies to those who rode with them through this crazy election. I am, however, not optimistic on that score, because whoever wins will be on the receiving end of an endless set of bills of fare for services rendered (real or perceived).
I hope y’all take a little pause before determining what it all means and deploying capital accordingly. As we won’t know whether and to what extent the investment winds blow fair or ill for some time to come.
And yes, I’d like to ride again someday. Because I think I still know how to play. And when I say that the games I am currently playing are not fun, I suspect I’m not alone in this settlement.
But like the man says, a cowboy’s worth is never done. So, while I won’t fault you for pausing to wish me happy returns of the day, I suggest that you subsequently saddle ‘em up without much delay.
Because my 66th spin ‘round the sun promises to be a wild ride.
TIMSHEL