All Good Things Come To An End

December 30, 1996  Monday

1996.  What a year.  This year will be remembered for the Atlanta Olympics, another running of the Chicago Bulls, the birth of Major League Soccer (just kidding), the presidential election, natural disasters,   Independence Day, and random acts of terrorism.

On a personal level, the year was just as eventual, perhaps my most ever.  On January 1, 1996, I opened the year on a disabled train with Hoke, in the middle of Iowa, as his family and I made our way back from Estes Park, Colorado.  It was also the month I began working at the ol’ Hub.  I did not go out for baseball, unlike my sophomore year.  I know this is also the year I did not write in my journal, until the end of the summer, and a huge gap exists, but was mostly comprised of a lot of hanging out with Hoke, very similar to the first half of “What a Long, Strange Day.” That was pretty much my junior year, writ large.  Compared to this year 1995-1996 was quiet, and I was too.  So much so I sometimes now feel like a different, more outgoing person. Summer found me going to Walt Disney World, and Bears camp in late July.  In the past four months I have gotten my license, gone to a memorable school dance, and have worked a second, after-school job.

I look forward to ushering in the new year tomorrow with my two best friends, Hoke and Sidney.  I am also eager to begin the second semester, which is my last.  I am going to play baseball no matter what this spring, period.  As far as the rest of the winter and spring, I’m free.  Here’s to a great 1996 and an even better 1997.

Although 1996 can keep the “Macarena,” as a parting gift,

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