Well it is Just Seventeen and You Know What I Mean...

So I spent the final day of '16 as a dutiful coach potato, watching all manner of college football -- getting my fill before the season ends next week.  Wifey came home with D2 and Jonathan, and all got ready for the NYE festivities.

I got D2 and J to pregame with me -- a few vodkas, and some tequilla for D2.  Then Wifey dropped me off at a party at Mike and Loni's, dropped J and D2 at Cath's house, for a second pregame before they Ubered to Midtown, and then went to bring some supplies to her mother.

Everyone asked me where Wifey was, and I told them there was the dramatic story or the real one.  The dramatic one was that, on the eve of our 30th anniversary, she woke up and just took off -- couldn't stand me for even another moment.  The real story was about her mother, and an hour or so later, she joined us at the party.

We caught up with old friends, and drank, and ate apps...Around 11:30 we watched Times Square, which was awful and boring -- Anderson Cooper and Kathy Griffin, and middle American-like acts like Taylor Swift.  We switched to the Miami show, which had Coolie, Snoop, Salt N Pepa, Queen Latifah, and, of course, Pitbull.  That show rocked, and it took us to the new year.

Mike poured champagne, and we said goodbye to what many thought was an awful year.  Not me.  I refuse to take politics too seriously anymore, and since my close friends and family are ok, well, I'm ok, too.

This am, I had my coffee, and, nearing noon, D2 and Jonathan are still asleep.  I assume they came home in the wee small hours, and today will be a traditional recovery day.  I plan to watch even more football -- the Fins -- and at some point drive J back to Aventura.

So welcome, 2017.  I still clearly remember being a boy, and asking my father about the distant future -- the year 2000.  In the late 60s, it seemed so, so far away, and my Dad pointed out I wouldn't even be 40 when 2000 came.  Time.  All we really have.

So I hope for good health for my family and myself.  I hope to laugh, a lot.  I hope to maybe make a few shekels in the law business, as my monthly Amex bills from Wifey and the Ds haven't gotten smaller even as my income has.  And that's ok.

I hope to throw the biggest, fattest, Colombian Jewish wedding of all -- to celebrate D1 and Joey, and the start of their life together.

So the rollercoaster is loaded up, we're strapped in, and the ascent up the first hill has begun.  All is fine...