Prime, priming, and primed

When deciding where Sam was going to be for New Years, Jess mentioned that the friends' party she was going to was going to feature a flaming punchbowl. 2010 has been a rough year for many, especially among our group of mutual friends. The idea, apparently, was that 2010 was a year that deserved an ending involving something being set on fire. And a punchbowl was the largest thing they could do without a permit or potential property damage.

I agreed - 2010 had indeed been that sort of year. And agreed that Sam should go to the party to see other friends' kids. And the flaming punchbowl. No five year old should ever miss that opportunity.

My initial reflection was that 2010 was a year that deserves to be beaten senseless by the empty champagne bottles that rang it in with such hope and optimism a year ago. However, on further reflection, most of my own issues with 2010 were the final "hangover" pangs of that apocalyptically Foul Year of 2009. There needed to be a year of adjustment, of changes, and of alterations. 2009 had legs, I tell you.

My final act of 2010 is to prime the bedroom of my apartment. I'd finished painting the rest of the place back in the summer, and declared that I could live with the bedroom in its current state. But I realized I was suffering from some chronic exhaustion, lack of spark, and occasional recurring bouts of leftover depression.

I blame the bedroom. Bed placement, looking at the holes in the door and the wall, the scarred, dark, and depressing paint job. New Year, new bedroom to get strength from. So over the past week I've finished patching, and today I coated the walls and trim with Kilz primer. Not sure what color I'm going to paint it - probably some sort of blue, though much lighter than the Dark Night Of The Soul Blue it was before.

I have no flaming punchbowl, but there will be fireworks on the bridge at 9. And there's a band down at the Eagle. So, a shower, a few shots of Jagermeister to drown the dregs of 2010, and a bottle of champagne in the fridge to cheer on the New Year when I get back.

And I'm going to hold on to the wisdom of Red Green in his Facebook status: "[2011] is a prime number, so it should be a prime year!" Indeed. Raise a glass.

Adding to your folklore

"What do you do when you've got nothing to do? Grow lemons. Germinate them by hand. Become a farmer of big-ass monster-sized lemons. Add it to your folklore."

-Keith Richards

We all have our own personal folklore - a listing of crazy things we've done, wide ranges of strange, interesting, and out of the ordinary. The guy at the store counter who boxes on the weekends. Your co-worker who runs an illegal sports booking agency in the basement of his uncle's restaurant. The electrical engineer who fronted a punk band back in his 20's, and rejoined the band when he took early retirement. (That being James Williamson, guitarist for Iggy & the Stooges. His story still cracks me up.)

This being the end of the year, I'm seeing all sorts of articles on websites about "How to Improve for 2011!!!!!!!" and such. Better finances, better job, better quads...etc. Lots and lots of advice that always seems to come around every year.

For my how to improve for 2011, I'm going to consider my folklore. I've had a pretty good run so far - an odd and eclectic range of stuff I've done, lots of different friends (though in the age of Facebook, I do a piss-poor job of keeping in touch), and an odd array of skills from all the experiences.

But what brought me thinking about it again was talking with a substitute teacher who has also led a very eclectic life. He asked me if I felt "limited" being a librarian, and I told him I didn't - as a librarian, I am a licensed "professional dabbler". I am expected to be a font of odd information and to know a wide range of different things.

Lately, I've been doing very little dabbling and a lot of healing. I now have a space I'm almost happy with, back in a job I'm learning to enjoy again, and making peace with the consequences of past actions that will not be changing in the forseeable future. So it is time to look forward to 2011, and what I can add to my folklore.

I've been listening to Mr. Richards and his fine album "Exile on Main St." a lot lately. Right now the album is wrapping up on what I thought was always the natural ending - "Shine a Light". Mick Taylor's soaring solos, and the other Mick wishing favor on the listener "May the Good Lord shine a light on you - like the evening sun."

So I'll take Mick's evening sun, and I'll hope to add to the folklore. I have some ideas, but I'm feeling optimistic that whatever happens, 2011 will be an adventure.