“I’ll see you at the Islanders game.”
A year ago, my big Italian family gathered for Christmas Eve
as usual, and those were my parting words to my cousin. We both live in the DC
area, and our New York Islanders were taking the Acela south for a big game
against the Washington Capitals on New Year’s Eve day.
When my alarm went off that morning, I hopped out of bed
like a kid on Christmas. I had to go to the office for a few hours in the
morning, and I spent those hours bouncing around in my chair like a kid on…okay,
you get the idea.
The day more than lived up to expectations. The Islanders
won. My beautiful, perfect wife went to the Irish Channel, our favorite bar, to
save us a table before the influx of post-game revelers. We spent hours there.
Drinking, eating, and who knows what else. My wife and I made it back to our
apartment at some point that night, and we continued the party as the clock
struck midnight. What a day. What a night. What a time to be alive. What a way
to end the 2010s and kick off a new decade.
Of course, you know the punchline. Within three months,
COVID-19 had come ashore in the United States and I haven’t been to my office
regularly since. The world changed.
But I’m not here to relive or recount the misery. We all
have that shared pain. While I am extremely lucky to have remain employed and
not lost any family members to COVID (though some ended up in the
hospital), the year still absolutely sucked.
As I’ve thought about the hell we’ve collectively endured
this year, I keep thinking about that Islanders game. Not the game itself or
the fun we had that day, but the feeling of anticipation that came before it.
When’s the last time you’ve been excited for something to
happen?
This year has been a slog in large part because there was
nothing to get excited for. Sure, the election was a massive moment, and I
could not wait for us to collectively kick that racist idiot to the curb. I
wasn’t excited for it, though. If anything, the existential dread that came
with the election made the pandemic even worse.
Even sports were not immune. I’m a college football fan. I love college football. This year, each week felt like a chore. Dozens of games
were canceled or postponed every week. Those in charge seemed determined to do
everything in their power to make me hate the sport.
Holidays were ruined all year, as my wife and I listened to
experts by staying home, while idiots gathered for Thanksgiving and now
we’re seeing roughly 2,000 American deaths every single day. It’s only going to
get worse in early 2021, as more idiots refuse to listen and convince
themselves that somehow being in close quarters for hours with others is a good
idea in the teeth of the pandemic.
The “Groundhog Day” effect of 2020 ruined our psyches.
It’s mentally draining to live life without something exciting to look forward.
We used to put up with Mondays because we had Saturday to look forward to. What
happens when Saturday is Monday just without Zoom calls?
Movie releases were delayed. Production on TV shows was
halted. Sports were gone for months. Museums closed for months. Restaurants closed
for good. The year was a cavalcade of terrible days stacked on top of each
other like the worst game of Jenga ever, and we lost every day.
I write all this because I feel different today. Why?
Because I have anticipation again.
This past Friday, the season two Mandalorian finale premiered.
It was one of the few things this year that I legitimately looked forward to
and got excited about. That, of course, worried me. The biggest mistake you can
make in 2020 is get excited.
The Mandalorian finale delivered, and then some. The only
spoiler is that it was amazing. For the first time since March, I eagerly
anticipated something and that something delivered.
In tandem, and on a far more important topic, the first COVID-19vaccinations commenced in earnest across the country. Of course, in typical
2020 fashion, the Trump administration is screwing up the distribution and we
need the new administration in there to right the ship.
Still, the scenes of vaccinations bring hope, and
anticipation. I firmly believe by spring of 2021 – as warm weather returns and
we return to congregating outside – that life will slowly begin to return to
normal. The second half of 2021 could actually feel like a normal year.
Remember normalcy?
No, it won’t happen overnight. I understand that. I’m okay
with that. This feeling of anticipation is enough to get me through the winter.
I think.
The next couple of months will be long, cold, and dark. The
light at the end of the tunnel is now visible.
The anticipation of emerging on the other side is the best possible way to end this worst possible year.
Comments
Post a Comment