We're Almost There.

Hey! So nice to see you again—in a figurative sense, anyway. Why is my face petrified into a semi-congenial grimace here? Two reasons, really: 

a) I've just wrapped up a week of freezing morning bike rides and am relieved that marginal sensation has begun seeping into ancillary flesh bits.

b) I'm remembering that we're another day closer to cleansing an ugly, orange splotch from our collective fabric. Cold cycle, please. Yeah, go ahead and throw in another Tide Pod, but first, hit it a couple of times with that stain pen.

Now that we're into December, the monsoon that was Election 2020 has dwindled into a single, toxic layer of bronze vapor that lingers over our nation's capital. Meteorologists are theorizing, however, that the disturbance could abruptly change course during the next few weeks and disintegrate somewhere over south Florida, never to return. If only.

I'm not going to lie, I've still got a spring in my step, and it's been almost a month since this thing was called for Joe and Kamala. Admittedly, I didn't behave all that well in the immediate aftermath, gloating on Facebook and prodding a handful of my fellow Caucasian fifty-something-ers to meme the shit out of my feed and flood it with their "it-was-rigged-and-by-the-way-COVID-is fake-too" counterpoints. 

Of course, things devolved rapidly, which they always do. Even so, all I cared about at that moment was spiking that goddamned pigskin as hard as I possibly could. To put it another way, if schadenfreude were a cat, I felt like a freaking Tigon:

But that's enough of that, you know? As with past dustups, I ultimately discovered that spite is petty, hollow and mean when it spills over into social media. It never amounts to anything but a prolonged pillow fight, and as much as I'd like to persuade these people, it's never going to happen calling Loren Culp (Washington State Republican gubernatorial candidate) an ass clown on Facebook.

In light of the presidential victory, and with the promise of a vaccine in the next few months, I've already been feeling reflective of the past nine months. So much has happened and so much has changed, some of it maybe forever. 

Then the other day. I got an email, from Spotify of all people. As you may know, they like to accumulate playlists and they provided me with my most listened-to songs of 2020. Talk about an accurate snapshot of the year we've had. Turns out my number ten most played song for 2020 is Linger, by the Cranberries (Well, so far, anyway. I could still binge on Time to Change by the Brady Bunch and propel it to the top spot by year-end.). But wow, so accurate. This damn year has lingered like leftover mustard packets. 

But you be the judge. Tell me if my subconscious wasn't somehow trying to make sense of the year through selective listening. Here are the rest:

9) Goodbye, Yellow Brick Road, by Elton John: This one's a little spooky, because I do live in Seattle, aka the Emerald City. And, all you have to do is replace the words "Yellow Brick Road" with "West Seattle Bridge," and it's like Sir Elton is suddenly Nostradamus, only with hair plugs that came from his bottom.

8) Edge of Seventeen, by Stevie Nicks: Totally makes sense that this was one of my top songs of 2020. In fact, during last Saturday's Husky game, I was on the edge of 17 Oreos by the end of the first quarter.

7) Don't Stop Believin', by Journey: Remember, ain't no "g" on the end of "believin'". If you pronounce it with a "g" on the end, you'll sound like Siri. 

I knew you'd try it. 

Anyway, Don't Stop Believin' is kind of the comfort food of pop songs, right? It's loaded with good intentions and gives us a nice warm, cheesy feeling inside, sticking to our ribs (and in our heads) for a long, long, long time.

6) True, by Spandau Ballet: I've always really liked this song, so sue me. This is the sound of my soul.

By the way, who's the old man at the club today? For God's sakes. So far, every song on this list was performed by someone who's slated to get the vaccine right after the health care workers.

5) Don't You Forget About Me, by Simple Minds: An old favorite that has inspired me to "reply all" to every company-wide email. Feeling a little isolated, is all.

4) One, by U2: I must have been drawn to this song since it's the number of different hoodies I wear per week. 

3) Don't Dream It's Over, by Crowded House. Obviously, this is the ironic pick of the pandemic, since I DREAM IT'S OVER EVERY F*CKING NIGHT! Whoa, geez, sorry about that. Might be time to stock up on some more of that special toaster strudel from Uncle Ike's.

2) Nothing Compares 2 U, by Sinead O'Connor: What started as reflection on alienation and despair has morphed into my personal ode to the Nineties, a decade of amazing music and hassle-free airports, an era when half of America didn't think Bill Gates was a mind-harvesting antichrist, or if they did, it was because of Windows 95.

1) Jolene, by Dolly Parton: I just straight-up love this one, 2020 or no 2020.

I know we've got a dark winter ahead of us and it's probably going to suck and we're probably going to get really tired of our surroundings and hear a lot of bad news. But please, we're almost there! Stay safe.