I think many of you would agree with me when I say that 2016 was a year that came after 2015. Besides that, 2016 was full of many unexpected and confusing events that have led many of us to wonder how exactly the Cleveland Browns won a game this year. Yes, it was a surprising year indeed. So much so that I was confounded to the point where I could no longer write anything for this blog. I started several posts and promptly gave up midway through, if not sooner. It was as if some particularly awful event was lurking just around the corner and I could not stop myself from being distracted by it.

Then it happened. It was as frightening as I had imagined it would be; worse even. I tried to deny it. I tried to hide from it. I tried to tell myself that it would be okay, to accept the results and hope for the best.

I tried.

In the end though, I couldn’t lie to myself. I couldn’t accept it. I couldn’t believe that it could happen – not now.

I couldn’t.

But what could I do? I’m only one person. I’m only an accountant. I’m only 39!

Or so I told myself.

But I wasn’t. Not anymore.

I’m now 40.

Two months later and it still pains me to write that. What did I ever do to 2016 to cause it to do such an evil, evil thing to me? I hate you 2016. I told 2016 that right to its jerky little face and didn’t regret it at all…at that time anyway.

I now know that I shouldn’t have done that. I’d take it back if I could but it doesn’t work that way. Years don’t like to be told that you hate them. They don’t like being told that they have jerky-little faces. It makes them mad. Really mad.

I know that now.

I regret it now.

I admit that I never imagined that 2016 would retaliate in such a ruthless and uncool fashion. If it weren’t for the fact that there are still several hours left in 2016 I would tell it that I hated it again.

But I won’t do that.

My birthday, my 40th birthday, was at the end of October and at the time felt like the cruelest trick that 2016 could play on me. I was wrong. So very wrong and I am very apologetic to the rest of the world for how 2016 retaliated against me.

It was just a few days after my birthday, a time when I was comfortably bundled up in my covers of depression that 2016 gave me the first inkling of the retaliatory actions it had in store for me; 2016 let the Chicago Cubs win the World Series for the first time since 1648. In and of itself the Cubs winning the World Series wasn’t a bad thing, it was a great series to watch and actually captured my kids’ attention for seconds at a time, something no other sporting event has managed to accomplish. No, the Cubs winning wasn’t a bad thing – it was a horrible thing. A slap in the face. A thumbed nose in my general direction.

Why?

The Chicago Bears, the football team that I have inexplicably cheered on for the last 30-plus years, now holds the longest championship drought of all of the professional sports teams in Chicago. Why does this matter to someone who is not from Chicago and has spent less than 48 total hours in the Windy City? It shouldn’t.

But it does.

89 picks ain’t too bad

Since I was nine I have invested countless dollars on Bears merchandise, spent countless hours watching Bears game and have said countless curse words at the TV while watching Jay Cutler throw his 89th interception – of the game. As bad as the Bears have been over this time it was always comforting to know that as each year passed without another championship at least I wasn’t a Cubs fan; I had seen the Bears win a championship.

Years went by.

The Bears lost in increasing fashion. The Cubs did the same. Thank god I’m not a Cubs fan!

The Cubs win the World Series!

The Bears are 3-12.

I hate you 2016.

But 2016 was just getting started with the Cubs. It had much worse in store, and it didn’t wait long to pile it on.

The pile I’m referring to is of course the walking, talking orange-hued human-glow-stick that, thanks to 2016, will now be referred to as the 45th President of the United States. This isn’t to say that Mr. Frumps competition for the presidential nomination was astounding but given the choice between someone devoid of personality who may have used the wrong e-mail address while Secretary of State and someone who not only tweets more (about nothing) than the whole Kardashian clan combined but is also supported by a foreign leader whose name rhymes with “tootin'”, I thought it would be an easy choice.

There’s nothing that a little tootin’ and dump can’t fix…

What do I know?

I know that the Bears are the worst team in Chicago right now. I know that we are in for an interesting ride here in America. I know that I should apologize to 2016 just in case it is friends with 2017 and this retribution continues.

I know this but won’t do it. Not because I’m harboring resentment but, in my advanced age, I have no recollection of what this post is even about let alone what I should be apologizing for.

With that I hope you all have a 2017 to remember and, if you happen to remember mine, please let me know how it went.

Categories: Humor

Tags: 2016, 40, Chicago Bears, Cleveland Browns, election, Happy New Year, Kardashian, Mr Frump, old, Trump, Years