The Year of Our Lord, 2006



No piping to bring in the new year. I could blame it on the rain, of which there was more than a sufficiency. But actually now that I am yet another year older, I find that midnight comes much later than it used to. I was in no fit condition to go out in the cold and the damp and try to tune. I get more pathetic by the day. The new year was rung in with tea and soda bread. . .and television, God help us.

The papers, the radio, and, yes, the television are full of the predicted torrential rains on the time and the very route of the liturgy of the Sacred Rose Parade. The parade officials at this writing have consulted the auguries and find that they disagree with the weather report. The parade will go on. Now, all I ever enjoy in any parade is the bands. And as the commentators always talk over them I find parades unbelieveably tedious. But this year it could be different. If Pasadena really does get hit by a gully whumper it should be the most interesting Rose Parade ever. One certainly doesn't wish for catastrophe. But if it happens anyway, it does make for interesting. . . uh, television.