Handle With Care

 

Dyland, Petty, Orbison, George, Lynne

One thing I remember about ending the 2019 edition of #Project365 (a whopping TWO PEOPLE say I should keep it going -- thanks, guys) was that I ended it with "End of the Line" by the Traveling Wilburys.

I hadn't decided how to end this year until just now, and the Wilburys revisited me.

It's too easy to say this was our worst year. Nineteen-hundred-eighty-nine was awful. So, really, does it matter?

You probably know how I feel about these things, and I don't have much time for being phony about that or anything else. Some won't respect that, and it's cool.

I tried -- I believed -- that 2020 was going to be special. That failed spectacularly, and I leaked that hurt earlier today (note to self: don't do that).

I was going to see Jon at his daughter's bat mitzvah in January.

I was going to call a lot of baseball (and lacrosse) between Local Live, Brunswick, and, of course, the Renegades.

I was going to see Kristy and Hector and their family in North Carolina.

I was going to Meaghan and Eric's wedding near Albany.

I was going to call a ton of games!

With Hunt Scanlon, I was going to London and San Francisco, as well as New York a few times, along with a lot of podcasts.

Things were going to happen. I was going to believe again.

Nope. COVID-19 wiped out a lot (but not all) of that. Save for Meaghan and Eric (and that got delayed until late August) none of it happened.

Don't get me wrong. Out of lots of sadness and isolation, new doors and new life opened. Chico died in August. Mom died on Sep 4. Then Rascal/Squeaky arrived on Sep 13 and, as if they were just waiting, Dan and Craig pushed me into the video depo job on Sep 21.

They recently thanked me for my efforts. I thanked them for a new lease on life.

So that's it. I let my guard down to indicate that I'm sad about being as alone as I've ever felt tonight. It was dumb and I shouldn't have done it. There's a much deeper, more profound, and sadder post within that statement but, by this time tomorrow, it will all not matter.

And, so, we're back to the Traveling Wilburys. I mean, Dylan, Petter, Jeff Lynne, Roy Orbison, and George...freaking...Harrison?!?!?!?! Not to mention the side people involved, like Ray Cooper, Jim Keltner, and Dave Stewart. How could that ever -- literally, ever, fail?

It couldn't. It didn't. At least, not until Orbison (aka, "Lefty Wilbury") died.

They tried a second album and it wasn't the same.

Their first single, "Handle With Care," was probably their best and the one they're most recognized for. And, for the broken souls, it says everything.

Been beat up and battered 'round
Been sent up, and I've been shot down
You're the best thing that I've ever found
Handle me with care

Reputations changeable
Situations tolerable
Baby, you're adorable
Handle me with care

I'm so tired of being lonely
I still have some love to give
Won't you show me that you really care?

That works.

Every time.

Despite how I feel about such things, it seems to be the social convention (Sheldon Cooper speaking) to wish a happy new year. And so, that's how I leave you tonight.

I leave you hopeful for a bright 2021.

Having mostly abandoned care and expectations, I'm simply looking to make tomorrow good. Then the next day.

But I wish that you find whatever it is that you want. Better days are ahead. At least I hope so.

With that, we carry on as the calendar turns.