Well, with the way blogs work this, the final post, will be first in the listing. While I want to thank you for reading some posts through the year, instead I’ll thank you for considering reading any at all. By this point, after writing about 364 other songs and memories and associations, I’m getting pretty tapped, but I saved this one because it captured so clearly what I wanted to do for my 30th new year: go to a bar and feel momentarily appreciated by maybe one drunken person, but knowing that I would be tired watching the people all mingle and try to get laid. I didn’t. I stayed at home. I’d say I’m an introvert if you don’t accuse me of laying all of my blame on that. Big Harp sees through my eyes whenever I’m at a bar, and Lord knows there are enough bars around me. It’s the almost slow-drowning rambling chorus that makes me smile so much, though: “Be good to me, be a good new year.” I’m really hoping, praying, and willing to work for a good next year. I’ve never been a person to list goals because I have to confront failures when I do that, but I really have a feeling that I can figure some things out in the coming year(s). This year I binged on the WTF podcast from Marc Maron and realized that I’m not the only person still trying to figure it all out, and the truth is that I won’t figure it all out– probably even down to my last breath. So re-adjust, Pete. Make it a good year because it’s within your power to do so. You got this. And for you, who’s taking a look at this, please be kind as you read. I’ve tried to do that, but some days and memories were harder than others. Through 365 entries I think i purged a lot of baggage I’ve had laying around, so I’m grateful for the opportunity to share it with you in this, probably my only possibly worthwhile, mostly un-edited foray into nonfiction. Be good to me.