Every day since Christmas, various media sources have been running retrospectives of 2016. While I’m happy not to have to listen to screechy Mimi warbling “All I want for Christmas, is you” or Annie Lennox moaning that she wants to “frolic and play, the Eskimo way”, revisiting the major events if last year is like binge-reading the obituaries for a week.

Looking back serves no purpose – we can’t change the past and mourning gets old.

Reading Facebook is a downer as well, with folks despairing about all of the famous and almost-famous folks who passed on.

Yes, it’s sad, but consider the awful natural and man-made tragedies afflicting the world, and the hundreds of thousands of refugees and innocent bystanders who have lost their lives to bombs and bullets and crazy dictators. Twas ever thus….

Where do all the despots and terrorists and revolutionaries get their deadly munitions? In yesterday’s paper, there were statistics for arms sales around the world. I find it ironic that the US manufacturers are still making bucket loads (or body bags full) of profits. Maybe someone should make them stop – all of the NATO countries are huge weapons manufacturers.

Then there are the prognosticators in sharp suits who hunch over their news desks on too-bright sets and either yell or moan about how bad and unstable things might be next year. We’ve been down this road before and before and before. Makes you want to sit in a corner with a bottle of good red wine, a box of chocolates and a tin of shortbread.

No one can predict the future. They got it wrong last year and they’ll be wrong again. As the saying goes, what are the only jobs where you can be wrong 60% of the time and not be fired? Meteorologists and pundits.

My first resolution – less news and more silliness. Hug my loved ones more. Then, hang out with folks who  make me laugh or think new thoughts or just relax. Get happier and healthier. Finish my second novel. Be my own bright light.