2008

Well, I didn't expect that.

Which is somewhat strange, since I had asked for it.

We do magic every New Year's Eve. Everyone at my friends' party writes something down on a slip of paper that we'd like to leave behind in the coming year. Then we go outside and shiver on their deck as we watch the paper burn.

I've burnt things I've been angry about, and other times I've burnt habits I've had a hard time shaking. Last year, as I was approaching five years of editing a hunting magazine and then a firearms retailer magazine, I wrote "Guns." I was planning to go to one more Big Gun Show, then start looking for a new job, on new subject matter. By this time next year (a.k.a. today), I would be working somewhere else.

It didn't really surprise me when I never got around to looking for a job. I was comfortable there, I did the job well--and I was surrounded by friends. So there wasn't a whole lot of incentive to go, and when the economy started getting shaky, I decided to stay put. Rather than being the new guy when cuts came wherever I landed, I'd stay where I was safe, and my job was secure.

Foot, meet banana peel.

I don't know how many times I've been burned by choosing the safe route. I don't think it suits me. Safe? Ain't no such thing as safe.

With that disclaimer in mind, I wanted to offer a word of warning for 2009. When you're doing the magic of wishing and hoping... remember to work for what you wish for. Follow through on your magic, and don't leave it up to the fire to determine what burns and what endures.

Not all wishes are granted the way you expect. But even when they sideswipe you, granted wishes are nothing to be sneezed at.

Rob