Mamacita says: Happy New Year, dear friends, both seen and unseen, both here and elsewhere.  Happy New Year to you all.

I’ve been blogging for almost 17 years now. I’ve made many new friends, some of whom I’ve met in real life. However, and I’ve said this before but that doesn’t prevent me from saying it again, my blogosphere friends I’ve never actually met are just as real to me as if they lived next door. Bloggers have redefined “real life.” There are many different levels of real life now, and they’re all real.

I hope all of you have a wonderful and positive New Year. I hope nothing bad happens to any of you, and I hope you are all safe, and healthy, and happy, every single day. You, and everybody who is precious to you.

Ah, the New Year’s song. . . .This song always makes me tear up.  Even back before I knew what it meant, something about it was both sad, and happy, and sentimental.  Harry Burns tried to explain it to Sally Albright, but his explanation was more desperation than fact.  Robert Burns could be like that.  Remember, you’ve quoted a line from his poem about a louse crawling on a woman’s hair all your adult life:  “O wad some Power the giftie gie us, To see oursels as ithers see us!”  (You do NOT need that translated, right?)  I thought not.

Here is Robert Burns’  (no relation to Harry Burns) most famous poem.  It was set to music years later. (traditional folk melody.)

Should auld acquaintance be forgot, (Should old acquaintances be forgotten,)

And never brought to mind (And never remembered?)

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,

And the days of auld lang syne. (And days of long ago.)

And surely ye ‘ll be your pint’ stowp (And surely you will pay for your pint)

And surely I ‘ll be mine (And surely I’ll pay for mine)

And we ‘ll take a cup o’ kindness yet (We’ll drink a cup of kindness yet) (booze)

For auld lang syne (for the days of long ago.)

We twa hae run about the braes (We two have run around the hillsides)

And pou’d the gowans fine (and pulled the daisies fine)

But we ‘ve wander’d monie a weary fit (But we have wandered many a weary foot)

Sin’ auld lang syne. (Since the days of long ago.)

We twa hae paidl’d in the burn (We two have paddled in the stream)

Frae morning sun till dine (From noon ‘till dinner time)

But seas between us braid hae roar’d (But seas between us broad have roared)

Sin’ the days of auld lang syne (Since the days of long ago)

And there’s a hand, my trusty fiere (And there’s a hand, my trusty friend)

And gie ‘s a hand o’ thine (And give us a hand of yours)

And we ‘ll tak a right guid-willie waught (And we will take a goodwill draught)(that means, take a drink together)

For auld lang syne (For the days of long ago)

[CHORUS]For auld lang syne, my dear (For the days of long ago, my dear)

For auld lang syne (For the days of long ago)

We’ll tak a cup o’ kindness yet (We’ll take a cup of kindness yet) (booze)

For auld lang syne (For the days of long ago.)

To answer the question of whether or not old acquaintances should ever be forgotten, the answer is, most emphatically, “NO.”

Not till the Alzheimer’s makes me say “Oh Baby” to the nursing home orderlies.

I love you, dear friends. And I wish you were all here so we could take a right guid willie waught together. I’m really up for some good willie waught.

All hail the duties and possibilities of the coming twelve months! ~Edward Payson Powell