I don’t care what the Chinese zodiac says, so far for me 2004 has been the Year of the Potato. Don’t worry, I’m not going to write about mashing again, but I have done a fair amount of spud handling – along with champagne drinking – in the last two days. Perhaps that explains my general fuzzy-mindedness today. I have a potato hangover.
I admit I feel a little pressure here in this, the first entry of 2004. Does the first post of the year set the tone for the next 364 days? Is it like what they say about who you’re kissing at midnight being the person you’re going to kiss for the rest of the year? Can I work another potato joke in here? Maybe I just need to get this one under my belt and move on.
The dawn of 2004 brought a flood of messages to my inbox, so allow me to join with some of my correspondents in wishing you all a Happy New Year.
Signed,
David B. Thomas
Yourselves S. Institutionalized
Oceanographer B. Grumbling
Ritually H. Chastised
Antihistamines U. Depression
Miscuing J. Noncommittally