Happy New Year!

Wishing everyone a Happy New Year; a richly blessed 2006.

I have a favorite New Years Day memory.

I think I was fourteen years old. I rode my Cushman Eagle motor scooter out to a clearing in the Southern Arizona desert, out past Mary Ann Martin's house. I went rabbit hunting alone. It was an extra warm New Years Day, and when I arrived, I took off my jacket and started walking. Within a couple of hours I shot seven cottontails. It was my best hunting day ever. Mom fixed six of them for dinner that same evening.

The seventh one? I stuck my .22 rifle through the chain link border fence and while standing in the US I killed a rabbit in Mexico. Dad scolded me for killing and leaving… But it was a good day; a warm day and a warm memory for me. I've always wanted to do it again.

I like New Years Day much better than Christmas.

• Christmas lasts from the Day-After-Thanksgiving Shopping Blitzkrieg to the Day-After-Christmas Return Stampede.
• New Years Day begins whenever I want to get up and ends whenever I want to go back to bed.
• And, except for a few snack items, New Years Day is free.

So much is expected of me at Christmastime.

• People I never heard of expect me to find it in my heart to include $100 in the enclosed envelope.
• Other people expect me to boycott stores who sell stuff for the holidays but not for Christmas.
• Sincere neighbors expect me to bash the school district for ruining Christmas altogether.
• Radio stations expect me to appreciate their 24 hours of Christmas music (that started last October).
• Angry friends expect me to fire off an angry letter to their congressmen who've been angrily pa-tooting about new Christmas laws.
• My delightful grandchildren expect me to drop piles of gifts under their trees. (I'd like to.)
• The credit card company expects me to pay before the end of this billing cycle.
• The list goes on…

But on New Years Day, no one expects anything of me.

• I can stretch out on the couch and belch all day if I want.
• I won't bother to shave.
• I don't have to be on time anywhere, so I can waddle around donned in white boxers and black socks.
• No need to mow the lawn, but I can if I feel like it (fat chance).
• Or I can help My First Wife with a load of white things, but not with the barbeque.
• I don't have to sing, trim trees or deck halls.
• The list goes on…

This year I think I'll go hunting with a TV remote and later that same evening I'm going to fix myself a serving of black-eye peas and call it a good, warm day. I expect the Christ of Christmas will bless my whole family this new year. He always has.

PS. I've already figured out what to give My First Wife next Christmas. And my grandkids are in for a big Christmas surprise! I can hardly wait.