Unpredictable

They’re everywhere this time of year – people we’ve lost in 2017, year-in-review news headlines, predictions that did or didn’t come true. All the irresolute resolutions. Things we didn’t get done.

If you are a regular visitor to this site, you no doubt fail to remember with vibrant detail some uncomfortably bold predictions for 2017 that I didn’t make because, frankly, I didn’t think of them.

Still, a year later, it’s spooky – downright unsettling – even to consider how this post might read now if I’d actually thought of these things then:

  1. One year ago, if I’d only thought of it, I would have correctly predicted (again) that I wouldn’t be a target for unsolicited offers to model spandex bicycling garments. Go ahead. Laugh. Before you dismiss the idea, though, there was that clerk in the plumbing aisle who shot me a penetrating and ignobly furtive scowl at closing time one otherwise forgettable Saturday evening while I was twisting his spigots. We can only wonder what might have been on his mind.
  2. For years my oldest son talked about moving to California, something he finally accomplished. He has quite an impressive literary education and vocabulary to match, and he always said that moving west was a pining that had nothing to do with avoiding family here on the East Coast. He simply felt compelled to the magnificent climes, the contemplative expanse of a hazy westward solar repose, the enticing allure of fortune clandestinely immersed in an unhampered artistic community, a decision he gave years of consideration before finally deciding to move there in a kind of representative pursuit of modern-day manifest destiny, an endeavor and initiative that was solely and fundamentally occidental. I would have predicted you’d have to do something like that on purpose.
  3. One evening late in June, but not the 24th, 25th, 26th, 27th, 28th, 29th, or 30th, sometime shortly after 7:34 P.M., but just a little before a minute or so after that, while talking to my friend Rosemary, who was there at the time, I ran out of sage. I probably should have seen that coming.

And now an erstwhile prediction for 2018 –

We will continue to be genuinely grateful for the time you spend keeping up with all things Adaptations.

If you’re out starting the long New Year’s weekend a little early, catch up with us December 29 at the Colonial Tavern in downtown Fredericksburg. We’re on at 9:00, and we’re going to try something new that you might really like.

Restful holiday wishes to all – whatever you celebrate. Even if it’s impossible, be kind.

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