[This post’s title alludes to this little tidbit of news: 2008 will last
a second longer than most years.]
The New Year, per usual, calls to mind resolutions about what we hope will come within the next 365ish days. I’ll get to that in a moment.
First, though, I want to note that whatever else it stands for, December 31 also marks the anniversary of a pop-culture phenomenon’s passing. I speak of the final Calvin & Hobbes strip, December 31, 1995.
The frames reproduced in this post aren’t from that last strip. Its creator, Bill Watterson, had for years fought with newspapers about the constraints imposed on cartoonists by conventional newspaper page size and layout. Eventually he won that battle, at least for his Sunday strips, and the final one (like many others preceding it) shows the result: a gorgeous sprawl of irregularly-sized and completely non-rectangular moments in his characters’ lives, much of the space simply blank. The idea of either (a) reducing the whole strip to fit RAMH‘s layout or (b) slicing it up for the same reason, well, it just felt blasphemous.
So there’s this strip, then. Not one of the big Sunday numbers, and not even a New Year’s strip. (It was originally published April 17, 1986.) But boy do I love this message, and it brings me to the issue of resolutions.
Too often, and really for no reason at all, to resolve something — to promise myself something — means to cancel out something I’m dissatisfied with. And wow, is there a list of those somethings:
Lose weight. Exercise more often. (Hmm. Could there be a connection there…?) Put Grail (or whatever it’s eventually called) to rest, after fifteen years and four drafts. Sell something, damn it — some piece of fiction — at least to an agent if not to a publisher or periodical. Finish the Web sites I’ve been working on, others’ as well as my own. Be more consistent and reliable about paying bills. And so on.
Not to deny the importance to me of all those goals, but I think it’s important, too, to honor inwardly those things which I’m glad I did in 2008, and hope to keep doing next year. And it’s important to imagine those things which have nothing to do with “improving” myself, but everything to do with leaving me happier in twelve months than I am right now.
And I’ll start with that big sunny field — and a party to celebrate its appearance, after many miles of walking, on my personal horizon.
No details necessary on this sort of resolution. It’s not a wishlist for something specific, after all: just a frame of mind. The sun shines; passing clouds drop some water and move on; a breeze blows; somewhere not too far distant a dog barks, and up closely a cat [edit to add: or — duh — a tiger] rubs against your ankles, and a little kid tugs on the leg of your pants. A train whistle blows. A crowd cheers, somebody laughs, a brow furrows in concentration, a tear splashes on a countertop. And always — always — the right people are on hand to share the moments.
Whoever you are, reading this right now, thank you for being one of those people.
And now, on a rather different note, Oingo Boingo sings us out of 2008 at their own party, assisted by the casts of Nightmare Before Christmas and Corpse Bride — and a spectacular job of editing on this YouTube video:
Happy New Year!
maggie, dammit says
Mmmmm. I could use a sunny field right now, especially after you just brought it to life so brilliantly.
Your blog is a gem.
Happy New Year to you, my friend.
marta says
Oingo Boingo? Oingo Boingo! I saw them in concert in a bar in Tampa and stood two feet away from Danny Elfman. I had to be rescued from the moshers (or whatever they’re called. Such fun!
Good luck and as happy a can be writing in the new year.
Kate Lord Brown says
Happy New Year John – wishing you a big old sunny field of a year
Jules says
Oh thanks so much, John! I’ve finally got time to read this, and it’s so lovely. I love the big-sunny-field idea. I love your version of it, too. I’m not big on resolutions myself and “improvements.” I think they can be deceptive. I love the idea of ringing in the new year with “gratefuls” for one’s kicks, shall we say? And yours couldn’t be better.
I’m grateful I found your blog this year — and that you’re a reader of 7-Imp, too. Very, very thankful. …And now I feel like I need a sick joke or something to round out the overwhelming sincerity here…but I’m joke-less right now. And the sincerity is most real.
Happy new year!
John says
@all: Thanks so much for 2008!
marta: When I was looking for a video of that song, I found a clip from some teen movie in which Oingo Boingo actually appeared as a band, playing at like a high school (?) dance. I think the film might’ve been Back to School, but I’m not sure. (Never saw the whole thing.)
And you KNOW I’m looking at 2009 as the year you break out. It’s probably confusing as hell to have two choices — writing? art? — but looked at another way, you HAVE two choices (not necessarily mutually exclusive, especially with your cut-up project). Which at least doubles your odds, right? :)
Jules: The need for “a sick joke or something” is familiar to me. It’s how “Dead Man’s Party” ended up as the closing number on this post’s soundtrack.
(Oh, and as a matter of probably not very great coincidence, it was Marta’s blogroll which introduced me to both Seven Impossible Things and Kate’s What Kate Did Next blog. So this does have kind of a party-ish feel to it for me!)
Dennis Cass says
Wonderful post. A “frame of mind” may be the most fleeting, elusive (and therefore romantic) thing a writer/artist can wish for. I hope you find it.
Cheers,
Dennis
John says
Dennis: the most fleeting, elusive (and therefore romantic) thing a writer/artist can wish for
Well said. (Based on the evidence of Head Case, I’m not sure I know I know ANYONE more tuned in to frames of mind than you are, so that counts extra.) With luck, maybe we can add something like “enduring” and “satisfying” to that list of adjectives this year!
[Ooooh. the reCaptcha word-verification thing is “Barrymore Ladies.” Which has nothing to do with anything this post or comments are discussing, but I love seeing the random universe go click every now and then!]
Julie Weathers says
I thought I replied to this once. I guess I am very confused.
I loved this blog and yes, a big empty field is heaven.
John says
Julie: Confusion is one of the mainstays of a January frame of mind. In a field big and empty enough — and 12 months do stretch out forever — you don’t have to worry about falling in a hole or getting your spurs tangled in a thresher.
Hope your own 2009 brings you lots of sunshine and room to loll around in it!