On New Year's Eve, my mind was spinning as I devised what will surely be the motto of 2007: "2 Thousand 24/7." We all THOUGHT we were dancing as fast as we could in 2006 (which I named "Two Thousand Sex" last new year's and -- as you can see -- it did not take). But in 2 thousand 24/7, I think our heads are going to start blowing off our bods. I, for one, plan to spend the year bringing multitasking to obscene levels: I'll wear tap shoes to bed, blog in the shower, moisturize while meditating, screen two shows at once, and talk on my cell phone and Blackberry phone simultaneously. It's a promise in ink.
I, the spirit of 2 Thousand 24/7, I am currently pounding out this blog at my desk while skimming the New York Post, drinking my coffee, and watching President Ford's funeral -- which may seem v. 2006 to YOU, but there is a hint of 2 thousand 24/7 mania about it for ME. Today is a very depressing day for most of us (besides my sister, it's her b-day) -- made all the worse by having to mourn a President and as a result of said mourning, the pre-emption on the east coast of "The View." The havoc that President Ford continues to wreak!
Mrs. Reagan, with her black powersuit and indoor prescription sunglasses, will certainly get US magazine's coveted "Look of the Funeral" nod. How does that lady do it and how can we all "Steal Her Look!?" This funeral, and specifically watching Betty Ford, is making me miserable. You see, President Ford wasn't just a President to me, he was my pen-pal. As proof of our relationship I give you a letter he wrote me in 1977 (which was certainly NOT 19 Thousand 24/7).
This letter was in response to one that I wrote him that apparently told him a little about myself and my interests. I think at the ripe old age of nine I was actually collecting people's business cards and wrote him asking for one. He sent one back with the letter and a signature that I am sure is done by machine but which nonetheless caused my Mom to encase the letter in a frame for me. We had a special relationship. Things were simpler then. You could write the President and get a response. I wish it was '77. Peace in getting through today and for a great 2 Thousand 24/7.