Okay, so 2008 will not go down in the annals of great years for this blogger. And then it seemed like maybe, just maybe 2009 would get off to a good start.

But then, KAPOW. Like a punch in the kisser, my friends' little boy died unexpectedly last week at 3-1/2 years of age. Not that any death, at any age, and particularly the death of a child, could ever be less than horrendous and traumatic, but this kid and his parents had been through so much already. Then, when they were all getting into the groove of things, he's just ... gone. It's incomprehensible. I'm so sad, and I'm angry, too. My friends were amazing parents, loving their son and each other above all else, tackling even the most challenging medical issues with perspective, supportive attitudes, and mostly optimism.

Now, what? Try to get through each day, and worse, each night. Think about the beautiful boy whose voice they'll never hear, whose hugs will never again envelop them, whose smile will only light up their world again in pictures kept sacred. Dread entering his bedroom ever again, avoid thinking about taking down a crib or returning the machinery that kept him alive in his first year and was there for emergencies in the ensuing ones, feel lost and empty and rudderless, not to mention guilty for even considering any activity that might smack of normalcy, as if it would be a betrayal of the boy they love and the life they willingly embraced to keep him healthy and safe.

It isn't fair.

I know, life isn't fair and we all deal with crap that someone else isn't having to confront at one time or another, but this? This is ... awful. May your worst enemy never have to face this kind of raw, aching pain and loss.

Apparently I will never go on a date again. No first dates, anyway, and not for a good reason like meeting The One and therefore never wanting to go on another first date. Nope. Turns out that my bar none favorite place to go on first (and even second) dates has downsized right out of town.

What's next: All the bowling alleys closing, too? I don't understand why the billiards industry hasn't gone to Congress for a bailout, 'cause dateless people must have a very high suicide rate, which means fewer people buying anti-depressants, which can't be good for the economy.

Link via Charlie. Thanks for ruining my day, dude.

Notable birthdays on January 9th include Richard Milhous Nixon, Joan Baez, Bob "Gilligan" Denver, and Jimmy Page.

Today would have been my dad's 75th birthday. He died two weeks before he would have turned 61. Happy birthday, Father Ju! I still miss you the width of the ocean and the height of the highest peak.

What is the DEAL with the dot-are-yoo spammers, people? In case you're wondering, it's all their fault that the comments to all posts except this one right here have been closed for a while. I knew those Russkies were up to no good. My ancestors sure knew what they were doing when they ditched that place back in the late somethingorothers.

I know, this comment craptastrophe has put quite a crimp into your excellent intentions to bestow felicitous New Year's wishes upon me, so let me just remind you that my e-mail account, up there, to the left, with the handy "e-mail me" linkage, is working just fine. In fact, there's plenty of room because, aside from the spammy business, there has been almost zero activity there in, oh, epochs. Maybe longer.

So how the heck have you been? I am here to tell you that I am craptastic. Craptacular. Craparrific. Decrapit. Uncrappable.

But let that not deter me from my mission here, which is to wish one and all a VERY HAPPY NEW AND IMPROVED YEAR! I sincerely hope and pray that 2009 is a whole crapload better than the year whose name must not be uttered.