Happy New Year

You'll have to excuse Hakeem, he's a bit hung over after a scorchingly wild New Year's Eve spent cuddled up next to me falling asleep in front of the TV. Only the dinging of the bell on my cell phone just before midnight, the signal of a text message received, woke us up in time to watch the ball drop in Times Square and to watch Dick Clark and his wife awkwardly make out in celebration of a new year. I wish I would've turned my cell phone off to have been spared that eye-mangling spectacle.

Dinner at the old folks home before that was business as usual except for one thing. Instead of the usual old tyme music wafting through the air, strains of the Ray Conniff Singers and the Letterman, for some reason there was a Police CD playing. King of Pain, Wrapped Around Your Finger, Every Breath You Take, all these tunes and more filled the air. I was feeding blind old Dorothy, who is quite funny even though I can't always understand her. You can just tell she's funny from her delivery, even if what she delivers is sometimes odd. I asked Dorothy, fully knowing what the answer would be, if she knew who the Police were. She told me she didn't and then went on to tell me she remembered that I was there one other time. Who knows if she really was remembering me or not, I just played along. Bernice, again wearing the plum colored sweater she received from Santa Joel, asked me if I told "her" that she, Bernice, liked the sweater she received. I still didn't know what she meant but thought it was neat that she seemed to remember my connection to the sweater again. I told her "she" was super excited that Bernice liked the sweater and a satisfied smile spread across Bernice's face. 

Meanwhile, as I spooned canned pineapple into Dorothy's mouth and tried to get her to eat more vegetables, which she said she would only eat if I put sugar on them, Dorothy suddenly started having a conversation with someone I couldn't see. Dorothy is blind, or mostly blind, and has those milky eyes that are a dead giveaway to the fact. She pointed at something in front of her and told me that he's standing there. "Who's standing there?" I asked her. "The police, he's right there talking to me." The way she was looking at the police, which I'm guessing leaked into her subconscious after our discussion about the band The Police, it appeared that he might be about the size of a G.I. Joe doll and be standing on the table near her plate of manicotti, chatting with her. Dorothy then proceeded to have a conversation with the police, albeit a nonsensical one. I simply played along and tried to convince her that nothing could be more delicious than another bite of sugar-free vegetables. When she wouldn't go for it I cleared her tray away and wished her a happy new year before I stepped out into the cold night air. 

I wish all of you an incredibly happy new year, I hope it's your best one yet.