New Years Party

 

Hayter for December 29, 2024

“I wish I had gotten a 2025 calendar for Christmas”

            In a few minutes, I will have completed this, my last article for 2024. Yesterday, I did some research on the highlights of the year. Talk about some boring research!

After that, I looked over some of the predictions for 2025. AI (pronounced A Eye) kept showing up. Artificial Intelligence is one complicated subject. My research has led me to believe that this computerized project will design buildings, build buildings, and make autos, airplanes, weaponry, and artificial coffee. AI will create animated movies, author books, poems, and songs, as well as solve every sewage problem on the planet. I made up that last one, but I have every confidence it’s gonna happen. And, I’m glad that I won’t be able to see most of it.

I don’t know how it works or where it’s going, but AI sounds scary. My lack of understanding will not live to witness the bad side of it. I’m going to miss out on a program that can create new movies starring John Wayne, James Arness, and James Garner. Chill Wills? That may be a tough call.

And Buddy Holly will return with new songs and a different pair of glasses! Elvis? Your children won’t know who he is, but some girls will readily take to him. There will be 3-D figures walking around in your house. And, no, I have no idea what they’ll be doing.

Apparently, the only thing that can put a stop to all of this is World War III. If we can hold off that for a couple more years, A Eye or An Eye will be able to put a stop to all wars. It may not be able to curtail many of the problems created by it, but your children still have so much to look forward to.

Me? I’m retired. Kay and I couldn’t have it better. Our hope is to stay alive for as long as our money holds up. We selfishly had no children, so nobody wanted to take care of two homeless old people. Last week, Jill threw a Christmas gathering for the family, and no one there had any thought of taking care of me. They would have no trouble with Kay, but her husband was not worth the aggravation.

Before you ask, I’ll tell you that we had a good time at Jill’s party. We each brought desserts and gifts for everyone except ourselves. There were delicious pies, cookies, and cake. No turkey, dressing, or anything fried. Mom and Dad probably rolled over in their graves. – And, yes, I never cared for that saying. I’d erase it, but I hate to go back.  

Jill came up with a couple of cool games at the party. My nephew Clint and I were each against game-playing. Somehow or other we got involved. What I learned from the experience was that my nieces and nephews are so much quicker in thought and movement than I am.

I’m going to share only the first game with you. -- Jill placed a box on its side atop of a card table. Five people were randomly selected to stand on the blind side of the box. She then lined up four weird objects inside the box. We took turns lining up duplicate objects to—Forget it. I just wanted to mention that everybody in the living room was better at the complicated game than I was.

After my mindless display, not one of them would agree to take care of old Uncle Mark during his feeble years. Clint might eventually agree to give me a full bottle of sedatives, a glass of Sprite, and let me sit atop his roof. – Hey, I’m joking. He would have me in a lawn chair in his backyard.

Big Al had agreed to attend the Christmas party, but before he got ready to go, he became sick, so couldn’t make it. I know he was faking, because his last comment was, “I am so sorry that I will not be there fr the party games.” What a joker man!

My older brother, Dennis, couldn’t make it because he and Dardon Ann were in a town near San Antonio, at the house of one of their grandkids. Dennis was truly sorry that he couldn’t come to Jill’s party because, like his younger brother, Mark, he had been suffering from pain in every bending part of his body. I think it’s called arthritis. It’s mostly something old people have. I obviously acquired mine earlier in life.

If I’m still around for Christmas 2025, I’m fairly sure I won’t be well enough to either host or attend a party. In the words of Clint Eastwood, “A man’s got to know his limitations.” Me? I’ve got my limitations down to an art. It is such a blessing when you find yourself unable to do the things you’d rather not do.

While I can’t speak for you, I must say that I have enjoyed our moment together. Hopefully, next year will find the both of us with only pleasant thoughts. It’s likely easier for me to have pleasant thoughts than you. In case I haven’t mentioned it enough – I’m retired.  

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