In this column, I reflect on the mistakes I made in 2017:
If the arbitrary ritualization of our lonely planet completing yet another trip around the sun is good for anything — other than Martinelli’s and BBQ weenies, that is — it’s good for an excuse to reflect and evaluate how we all may have contributed to the meaningless suffering that seems to always be a part of that annual solar promenade.
I hope it’s not obvious I have the flu as I write this column. Oh well: If this one ends up darker in tone than is usual for my peppy, optimistic writerly voice, all for the better.
This time: I’m talking about my 2017 regrets.
Over the course of the year, I wrote a lot of things, and that, it turns out, is the ideal recipe for making mistakes. I’m not just talking about going a little too harsh on “Lego Ninjago” — I’m talking things I actually regret. (There may be a couple things for which I have no regrets, too, but I’ll save those for quick mentions at the end.)
Links to original articles referred to in the column: