I don't make a habit of doing a typical year-end wish/ prediction/resolution list. Somewhere along the way I must've realized how trite, contrived and formulaic they are. But, then again, they do serve a purpose, if only to look back the following year and see how far you missed it.

And quite a reference it was, albeit in a left-handed sort of way. Keech wondered aloud how I had managed to slip through security on the Iraq leg of the Bush Legacy Tour and hurl a pair of shoes at the object of my disaffection (whose name should be changed from Duh to Duck, except that that would be an affront to mallards everywhere).

Random thoughts the week before Christmas:-Despite the economic downturn, I can't help but feel a renewed sense of optimism lately. Perhaps it's irrational and perhaps it's because I haven't yet been directly affected by the sorry economy, but this.

First of all, thank you for taking the time to participate in the economic roundtable at Guilford Technical Community College last Friday, Dec. 5. I thought the assembled business leaders represented an accurate crosssection of the region and voiced their concerns with eloquence and passion.

As we transition from the dark days of Duh and cross the bridge to brightness, it's not hard to sense the resurgence of ideas, ideals and identity.

I have made a decision, and I want the Sizzling Seventeen to hold my feet to the fire on it. After today, I shall not write the words Sarah Palin again for at least two years.

About 8:30 last Tuesday morning the phone rang. As I peered at the caller ID noting an incoming California call, my natural response was to let it go. It was, after all, Election Day and the logical assumption was that it was yet another robocall from a desperate campaign looking for new depths to stoop to.

I tried to write this column as if it were after the fact, as in after Tuesday, Nov. 4 presuming that Obama had already won. Yet, as I sit, Halloween afternoon, I cant quite make that assumption, cant take that chance.

With the end of the interminable campaign finally in sight and their team hopelessly behind, the McCain-Palin camp is finally hauling out the heavy artillery. All their Hail Marys have been caught by the trombone player, all their scurrilous robocalls answered by Marlee Matlin, all their slime-slinging landing in joyless Mudville.

You can choose your own metaphor for life. You may view it as a holiday, as in a stroll down Primrose Lane, or it can be Forrest Gumps mothers box of chocolates. It can be a river, a struggle, a journey, a battle, a classroom, a rollercoaster, a kaleidoscope.