And we begin on a beautiful, crisp, Sunday morning - oddly, New Year's Day. A day that always equals "starting over". I know this much: I've let the hangover of the election go. There is no point to continue making myself ill over this - I'm not giving sway to the notion of "normalizing" what isn't normal, ethical or legal (it's obvious - Trump committed treason by having the Russians hack into the DNC computers and tamper with the election; it's as clear as a blue sky on a sunny day), but I have to resume a complete sense of focus and control over the things I can. Namely, my life and my being as a whole. So that's one New Year's hope and aspiration realized, with certain clarity. Another is the plausibility of an actual reunion of The Punch Line. Not as a going concern, but the fact is 2017 is the 30th anniversary of our first single being recorded and that (to me) is a reason for celebration and acknowledgment. The plausibility is the question; I know what many others want and how they feel - and I am truly appreciative and moved by their desire and encouragement to see this happen. But I always wind up ambivalent if not uncomfortable with it. So I'm trying this approach - creatively visualize what it could be like and if that mental picture seems feasible and not unnerving, I will proceed in making the contacts necessary. What's the worst that can happen? They say no. Okay. At least it was given a fair, thought out chance.
The other things - the gym, recording, writing - all of it will continue. A little less bluster ("oh, I'm going to do this, this and this...") and more of the reality that what time will allow, I will take. And the same applies to personal relationships. What you give is what you get, obviously, and if efforts aren't mutual, then people will simply be quietly jettisoned. It isn't all that important.
So waking up on this quietest of New Year's Day/Sunday mornings makes me glad to be around for my 52nd trip around the sun...