This morning I sit quietly and in reflection. The start of 2021 has so far been polarized, and it leaves me worried for it’s future.
For the last couple weeks I’ve been saying that 2021 would have a very low bar in terms of 2021 being able to be better than it’s forebear, however being just six days in, I have some simple advice for the young year: ‘slow the fuck down, pace yourself, or 2020 will become the second worst year in recent history’.
I had intended my first post of the year to be solely on how COVID Christmas and New Year’s 2021 turned out to be, well, unexpectedly amazing, but then yesterday afternoon happened. While I’m not a citizen and I’ve never lived there beyond vacationing occasionally, to see what has been the leading democracy in the world rocked on it’s foundation, led by it’s own President (whether it was directly or indirectly will be studied for years), left me wondering what disaster porn movie was being broadcast via the interwebs to my workstation.
But for now, enough on that…
I previously wrote about COVID Christmas in detail, but at the time of the post, Bae and I hadn’t started to celebrate the New Year’s Eve, but we did, and we did it well. In a style fitting for an isolated 2020, we had a dance party in our kitchen, just the two of us, and a couple confused fur kids. After actually showering and dressing up to something somewhat fancier than the work-from-home attire or lounging wear I’d worn for much of the last nine months (after working hours; okay: after MOST working hours), I splashed on some cologne and put on a sport jacket, and was treated to Bae’s flawless makeup and little black dress; we were ready to say good-bye to 2020.
We spent the evening listening to and watching music videos on the kitchen monitor with a happy little buzz on from a couple good bevvies (and yes, a hoot or two of my new friend). The evening put me into a very blissful state that resembled very the euphoric high of being on vacation someplace warm by the sea, but without the sandy cleanup (oh and no hangover in the morning). Eventually we retired to bed to watch a movie, and despite temptation, we did stay up to bring in the new year. We shunned network events until the few minutes prior to midnight, then turned the tube (uh, there’s not a single television tube left in this house, so I’m dating myself here) to a countdown. Honestly Canada, we need to do better for our broadcast New Year celebrations and find a way to celebrate (outdoor all star game style hockey tournament and fireworks comes to mind immediately, but hey, I’m available to consult on new event ideas – fair warning, I’m an introvert, so expect laid back; yes my tongue firmly in cheek, here). I didn’t blow the budget on the champagne, but given all that 2020 brought/did to us, the first taste of the New Year needed to be special, so I didn’t skimp. With the New Year seen in, we turned in for a blissful night’s rest.
As for yesterday, well, it changed the legacy of their outgoing President to this perspective from across the Atlantic ocean:
This image left me more than a little worried for our neighbours to the south:
I don’t want or intent to put more time into the topic as I’m not a citizen of the United States, and after four years of watching from afar and being thankful to not be directly impacted by that ‘leader’s‘ behaviour, I’m frankly drained. Yes, I will watch with extreme interest to see how history plays out for our southern neighbours, but I now have a mental countdown clock until their next President is inaugurated.
I say this with caution given my thoughts on how the bar is positioned for 2021 and for the next President’s legacy:
Mr President-Elect Biden, the bar set to ensure your legacy isn’t as shameful of that of #45 is exceptionally low; please, please please, do not blow it, and stay true to your words on focusing on healing your country and it’s relationships with the world.