No way to turn back the clock

Charlie Warner

Argus News Editor


At the end of each month, we flip the calendar to the next page and begin a new month. At the end of December, the monthly ritual propels us into a new year.


There have been a number of times in my life when propelling into the new year has had a greater significance than others.


This might seem stupid, but I can remember back to Dec. 31, 1961 when I told my mother and father that I didn’t want the year to end because I thought it was so neat that you could turn 1961 upside down and you still had 1961.


I was only seven years old when I got all shook about that fact. And here 50 years later, I can still recall that sick feeling in my stomach.


Moving from one decade to another always seemed to bother me too. I remember moving from the 1970s to the 1980s and then from the 1980s to the 1990s, spending considerable time contemplating what had transpired during the past decade. I recall a melancholy feeling and wondering if I had made any progress towards my life goals.


Like many others, flipping the calendar from December 1999 to January 2000, was more than a little unnerving. The Y-2 scare was all anyone talked about. All kinds of contingency plans had been put in place, as there was a real concern about entire computer systems crashing. I think it had something to do with a fear that our computers were not programed to read “2000.”


Fortunately, we sailed right into the new millennium.


As I pen this column during one of the final days of 2011, I find myself more than a little apprehensive thinking about what’s right around the corner. No, I’m not one of those persons who believes the world is going to come to an end in 2012. But 2012 bothers me for a number of reasons.


I graduated from high school in 1972…nearly 40 years ago. I helped my father with the weekly newspaper in our hometown during the summer of 1972. I still remember looking at a photo that appeared in The Brownton Bulletin  of the class of 1932 holding their 40th class reunion. As I looked at that photo I marveled at how different things must have been back in 1932. That was before World War II. Ford had just come out with the first V-8 in the Model B. Hubert Hoover was still president.


And I still remember looking at the people in that photo of the BHS Class of 1932. Those people all looked so “Old.”


“Where would I be in 40 years? What would I be doing? Would I look as old as these people?” were some of the thoughts that were floating around in my head back in 1972.


When our daughter was born in March of 1994, I was 40 years old. She would start grade school 40 years after I had and graduate from high school 40 years after I had…in 2012. There’s that number again!!!


Back nearly 18 years ago, as I held that little wide-eyed baby with a thick mop of black hair in my hands, I thought how it was going to be a long, long time before she would graduate from high school in 2012. And now that day is fast approaching.


My father, who turned the ripe old age of 87 this past weekend had an interesting spin on life. It went something like this:


“Life is like an hour glass. When you are young, the top half of the glass is nearly full of sand and the hole separating the two sides is very small. The older you get, the larger the hole becomes, the faster the sand falls to the bottom of the glass  and the faster your life slips away before your eyes.”


Welcome to 2012…