Of course, every day of life is a gift.
That becomes apparent once people your age start dying or you are personally touched by tragedy at too young an age.
Or any age.
And who am I to argue with the idea that the meaning of life is to find your gift and show it to the world?
Well, I could argue that.
What if your particular gift is lying, cheating and generally wreaking havoc on the world, which in turn inspires others to do so and destroy it as we know it?
You see where this could be going.
If I let it.
I should’ve known 2025 wasn’t going to be “all that” when at the end of its first week my cell phone started audibly blaring with warnings from the city of L.A. to evacuate my home because a nearby canyon suddenly went up in flames.
Of course, I already knew that. My sister warned me five minutes earlier, my shrink had just called to warn me (Note: Yes, he knows where I live) and the TV happened to be on with footage of planes and helicopters dropping uncountable gallons of water all over the neighborhood.
Never a good sign.
Of course, my husband and I were lucky, so this day was, indeed, a gift. Our house survived and so did we. Not so lucky were the hundreds of homes and people in other neighborhoods that didn’t make it.
Not much of a gift for them.
I mention all this not to recount my worst day in 2025 or to prove that this year was cursed from the beginning and would prove to be so for anyone truly sane.
Instead, I bring it up to offer there is another way to look at it.
Everyone reading this, and the billions more with the ability to still read it, survived and were gifted at least one more day.
Probably more.
The question is, what we’ll do with them.
Just know, I HATE this kind of sentiment.
These bromides of positivity. This glass half-full sort of thinking.
But there was a time when I was convinced I also hated Brussel sprouts until Ina Garten instructed me how to douse them with olive oil, kosher salt and pepper and roast them in the oven at 400 degrees for about 30-35 minutes. Since then they have become the house vegetable, sometimes with balsamic glaze and other times simply with fresh parsley and some additional sea salt.
Allowing me to know that even if everything else was shitty that day, at the very least I succeeded at not only eating my vegetables but actually enjoying them.
Which is more than I ever did during my first 25 five years of “gifted” existence. #SoMuchMoreHealthSoManyMoreGiftsToLive
There is no point in us recapping the many disasters of 2025. The school shootings, the affordability crisis, the cold-blooded murder of well known public figures, along with so many non-famous people who also have friends, families, loved one and talents, nee gifts.
And never mind the grifting of money from the unfortunate or unknowing, the worldwide bending (Note: though not breaking) to authoritarianism, the ravages of international war or the demonization of immigrants, nee anyone not white and Christian.
For a married gay guy with a very Jewish last name like myself, whose grandparents on both sides were immigrants, this is especially troubling. Even more so because I actually know and like not only Muslims and Somalis but non-whites of all sorts of colors from all over the world.
Going to one of the first mandatory integrated elementary schools in New York City in the sixties will do that to you. As will growing up in most urban cities. As will growing up anywhere and having parents who aren’t racists.
Everyone gets treated exactly the same way. Including the whitest of Christians.
That didn’t seem exactly progressive to me back then but I never would have predicted the world we have all been gifted for at least another day.
And yes, probably more.
That said, 2025 did have a few cool things.
My favorite film was One Battle After Another, Paul Thomas Anderson’s brilliant black comedy/drama treatment of the times. I also thought Sinners was pretty damn good, as was a small indie film called The History of Sound.
On television, Netflix early in the year gave us the gift of the limited series, Adolescence, and wrapped up the year with a wonderful final season (Note: One more episode to go!) of Stranger Things. HBO Max started out the year with a riveting new show, The Pitt and ended it with the LGBTQ+ series I could have only dreamed of as a kid but never would have, that viral sensation known as Heated Rivalry.
Now if only both companies would stop gobbling up other companies. Or selling out to other companies, or billionaires, or beefy politicians, and the entire planet would be a better place.
This entirely circumvents the subject of A.I. because seriously, I can’t right now…
Instead, let’s consider at least one happy couple who were gifted overtime in 2025 – Taylor Swift and Travis Kelce. They’d better at least be happy in real life.
As should the new mayor of NYC – Zohran Mamdani. He’s got great ideas for my hometown AND he’s Muslim. Imagine that! Well, I can. As can my very Jewish blood brother Mandy Patinkin, who can be seen here, with his wife, actress Kathryn Grody, making potato latkes with him.
It could be our new slogan for 2026.
Break Bread, Not Heads.
And yes, I know latkes are technically made with matzo meal, not bread. Just think of it as a starting point.
And a gift.
Duke Ellington – Auld Lang Syne
notes from a chair 