The first decade of the twenty-first century is creaking to a close. This decade moved like forty-year-old motor oil in a farmer’s tractor. This wasn’t a horrible decade—not a Hitler or a Black Plague decade. We had our moments—Giants’ win of the World Series, Obama election, genome sequencing, discovery of water on Mars, and Harry Potter, a few surprises in an otherwise dim ten years. I hoped for more.
Some of images created by Arthur C. Clarke and Stanley Kubrick for this decade came about like big screen cell phones and uppity computers. But I wanted to jog around a cylindrical space ship, use a zero-gravity toilet, and float inside a monolith. I believed with all my teenage heart that I would be living in a solar home and flying a fusion car by now. Truth is that I wanted to have my 2001 celebration at McDonald's on the Sea of Tranquility. I even moved my expectations to a 2010. Instead, I spend most of my focus erasing decades of bad eating habits of my Standard American Diet (SAD), opting for food my great-great-grandparents grew in the old country two centuries ago with little hope of going to the moon in my lifetime.
One of the apps on my Internet home page is a graphic of our solar system that shows the actual location of each planet minute by minute. Do you remember singing “this is the dawning of the Age of Aquarius?” I do. Harmony and understanding. Peace. I think of those words watching the app that aligns planets on my flat screen. I prayed that we Americans could embrace each other during this depression, give each other a hug, veggie sandwich on sprouted bread, and a job. That "love would steer the stars."
Each year I make a list of resolutions then go somewhere alone on New Year’s Day to reflect on the past year and my future. This year I am spending the day with my husband and my friends. My resolutions will include giving hugs, feeding someone veggie sandwich on sprouted bread, and creating jobs.