Dear 2021,

How’s it going?

I know you started out like a 4-year-old leaping onto the ice, thinking they can skate then falling flat on their face. That’s a tough way to begin, but don’t give up just yet.

I mean, hey, I totally get that the US seems to want to try out being a banana republic with people storming the Capital Building and big tech deciding to censor anything they don’t like in such a way that even the Chinese are asking, “Dude, you really did that?”

But there’s still time to turn things around.

Do you have a plan, 2021?

If not, can I suggest a few things?

Maybe a good slogan? “21? Time to drink!” probably isn’t the right one, but how about “You’re #1, act like it.” Or “As long as you’re alive, you can start over. And get coffee.”

Maybe have a chat with the universe and see if you can find a way to reduce the amount of stupid out there. Flatworlders, Antivaxxers, people who text as they walk or think Star Wars: Rise of Skywalker is a good movie… they all kinda need to rethink their positions.

Maybe have a few more nice sunsets, or if you ask The-Prettiest-Girl-in-the-World, more movies where the Rock takes off his shirt (which, to be fair, is all his movies.)

Open up travel as soon as you can. It’s like the sardines in the can are alive, have piranha teeth and have had enough of being crammed together. See, we need to be able to see the Eiffel Tower again, or feel the sand between our toes on a Hawaiian beach or, if you’re The-Youngest, get that rollercoaster rush while screaming at the top of your lungs.

You can do it, 2021.

Make it ok for people to see my muffin-face smile because right now, all they see is a masked someone staring at them like they’re about to kill them. Make it ok for me to go swimming or to grunt in the gym while lifting light weights as if they were heavy weights. Make it ok to shake hands, again, because me standing there trying not to shake someone’s hand, twitching like I’ve been tasered, is not a good look for me.

Hey, make it ok just to get out.

Bring back theaters and, for The-Oldest, concerts – though he’s talking about Chopin and Mozart, not Bieber or the Butthole Surfers (yes, that’s a real band.) Personally, I miss theaters like The-Prettiest-Girl-in-the-World misses massages. I love sitting in the dark, engulfed in sound, and eating my weight in buttery-heart-attack-inducing popcorn. I think what that says about me isn’t good, but whatever, I want to see movies on the big screen, again. As God intended.

But if you do nothing else, bring back family and friends.

I miss my friends, even if I don’t tell them that I miss them. The Prettiest-Girl-in-the-World misses hugging her Baba (and all of her family and friends, and even the odd stranger.) The-Youngest misses goofing on a couch with his friends, watching pool-diving fails, and burping out the alphabet after drinking a litre of root beer. The-Oldest misses the whole college/university experience, where you hit on girls, hang with your friends, play crazy jazz, discuss the meaning of life, find out what it’s like to wake up in your own vomit, or create a band like the Beatles, but with longer songs, more piano and so many dissonant notes that no-one really wants to hear it.

So, it’s not too late, 2021. Get your butt in gear. Focus. Make this a great year.

Your friend,

Justjoe