The Real New Year’s List

Predictions and hopes and fears (oh, my!)–sometimes it seems the more we resolve we’re going to change, the more we stay the same
by D.L. Murphy

I have spent the past month reading everyone else’s hopes, fears, and predictions for the New Year. Boring, boring, and boring–most of the things these fearless forecasters talk about is of approximately zero interest to me. I figure I’m not terminally unique, so I bet the following are more in line with what real people are interested in. Read on, beloved reader:

1. First and foremost, I hope that this is the year that everyone makes sure his or her inner child is potty-trained.

• I am afraid that grownups will continue to use "being in therapy" as some kind of get-out-of-jail-free card for bad behavior.

• I predict that grownups will continue to act like children.

2. I hope that manners become popular again and that simple courtesy and thinking-of-the other-guy become trendy behavior. (Remember "random acts of kindness and senseless beauty"?)

• I fear that "hunh?" will become considered a proper response to a polite question.

• I predict that we will continue our "me first" free-for-all. (How long do you wait before entering the intersection once the light has turned green?)

3. Speaking of not green, I hope everyone stops bitching about Bush being president and, instead, actually decides to do something about it, like giving five hours of your time each week or 5 percent of your income to organizations that work to make our community someplace we actually want to live. This seems to be a realistic alternative to letting Bush define our reality.

• I am afraid that Bush’s presidency will return us to the Eisenhower years (Happy Days, my ass). And that, as a result, I will have to wear a dress and pearls to go to work in my at-home office.

• I predict that everyone will continue along pretty much as they are now.

4. I hope I get magic powers and can, among things I will not mention in this magazine, cast a spell upon my somewhat less than Martha Stewartesque house so that it becomes self-cleaning, self-repairing, and self-propagating. Note: There is a woman in Ithaca, New York who legally changed her name to Self-Cleaning Oven. Think about it.

• I fear that someone else will get these powers and use them in ways not to my liking.

• I predict that no one will be given magic powers.

5. I hope that everyone uses his or her existing powers to make sure there is a place at the table for everyone in the GLBTQ (Queer) community.

• I fear that a conservative backlash, and the resulting drop in funding, will set us at one another’s throats, making it impossible to eat, much less sit, at the same table.

• I predict that we will all continue to struggle toward righteousness.

6. I hope I finally get it together enough so I can always find my sneakers. And my wallet. And my car keys. And, most especially, my glasses. Before one of my housemates tells me they are on top of my head (again).

• I fear that the aging process will accelerate exponentially, leaving me just a pile of drooling mush.

• I predict that Mother Nature will operate at her own pace, in her own way. And that we foolish humans will act as though sheer force of will can change natural law.

7. I hope our community gets it together enough so that existing organizations mentor newly formed, struggling organizations.

• I fear that the number of community organizations will decrease, leaving only the Log Cabin Republicans and Bunnies on the Bayou for entertainment. Note: This is not a criticism of Bunnies.

• I predict that the number of community organizations will stay about the same, will act about the same, and will do about the same.

8. I hope the Fox network kicks Lisa Simpson or Tommy Hill right out of that closet. Providing a gay role model for children may be the only useful thing network TV ever does.

• I fear that the Fox network will do something stupid, like have Waylon Smithers finally get into bed with Mr. Burns.

• I predict that we will never predict what will happen next with network television.

9. I hope that I win the lottery. And then use some of the money to make all of these wishes come true. Except for the magic powers part, I don’t think we can buy them. But money, in sufficient amounts, can make magic happen. Remember this when you do this year’s budget. (What do you mean, you don’t do a budget, or worse yet, don’t give anything back to your community!?)

• I fear that I will win the lottery, changing my life in ways I don’t even want to consider.

• I predict that I will not win the lottery (I would have to buy a ticket first, right?).

Happy New Year, all.