Let’s not tip the year off that it’s almost over, because we don’t want to give it chance to do something else horrible before midnight. I’d like to think next year will be better, but it’s been on a fairly horrid downhill trajectory since at least 2016. I’m not saying that David Bowie dying somehow broke the timeline, but…

Luckily I’m still in denial about most of the truly awful stuff that happened this year, and there is a pretty good chance I can keep it during at least the next 6-12 months without becoming a raging alcoholic or addicted to benzodiazepines. And of course I’ve been blessed with a long family history of swinging from the rope of gallows humour in the darkest of times. Saying inappropriate things to make each other laugh is dad did it, and it’s how I do it. It may not be healthy but it’s what he taught me to do.

So I might allow myself a moment of quiet reflection later tonight raise a glass and curse the year. I might start the new year with a bit of Bowie on the turntable, maybe that will break the evil spell? And even if it doesn’t playing my fathers Bowie records is still something that makes me feel closer to him for a while. He loved Bowie, and he loved that I grew up to Bowie.

Planet Earth is blue, and there’s nothing I can do…