2016 should have been fired about two weeks after it arrived. Unfortunately, it hung around, like that one guy at the party who manages to insult your parents, alienate your best friend, spill red wine on your best white shirt and possibly absquatulate with one or two pieces of heirloom silverware. Bad cess to 2016, then. And possibly bad cess to its younger brother, who is already looking to be the kind of unfortunate dudebro one hopes one's son won't emulate. I do not hold out much hope, I confess.
On the other hand, hope, like that pixilated aunt you adore even as you know you should worry about her, springs eternal. In fact, she refuses to give up springing, jumping, leaping, pogoing, and otherwise acting in a completely unbecoming fashion, while motioning you to join her on the dance floor. I suppose just one sproing couldn't hurt ....
Meanwhile, there are all of you out there, my friends and acquaintances, all of you eminently worthy individuals, each of you having added something positive to my life. I will, at least temporarily, hang onto my pixilated aunt as she pogos around the room, and wish you all the very, very best 2017. You are in my heart, each of you, and you have provided much of what joy 2016 offered me.
So - wanna join me and Hope on the dance floor?