It is the time when they love writing lists.
You know the kind of thing? The ten best films of ’19 or ten books you must read next year. All these lists are subjective so I never bother reading them. I have watched some must see films and they were utter shite and that’s putting it mildly. I am also unlikely to visit the 10 best restaurants or the 10 best coffee houses just because someone else has been there.
Of course the other sign of the times is the proliferation of Reviews of the Year. [There is a great one over at Velvet Glove, Iron Fist!]. I think I may have done one or two myself in the past. I had a little quiet ponder last night: what would I include in my Review of the Year? Basically it boils down to one word – “ditto”.
Yes, the past year was pretty much identical to the one before, and even the one before that. There were a couple of minor glitches in the smooth running of the year, such as Herself getting a new knee and my little heart attack, but that’s all. Of course I changed the car after 15 years which I suppose is a fairly memorable event.
I don’t expect many changes next year either. The only thing I can think of is that I have to renew my driving licence. That may sound like a routine thingy, but this coming year I shall become very dangerous, senile and decrepit, at least as far as the licensing crowd are concerned. So I have to somehow prove that I’m not dangerous, senile or decrepit in order to get the licence. What’s worse it’s the end of the ten-year licence and I’ll have to go through the same routine every three years. It’s a sort of NCT for the driver. Fuck!
Anyway, next year isn’t here yet.
Maybe something noteworthy will happen before this year is out?