All in all, I think I had a pretty successful year in 2015.
I mean, first off, I wasn’t killed by the police. It seems like there are too many minorities that can’t say that.
And, secondly, I wasn’t sexually assaulted by Bill Cosby.
That Cosby thing shocked me, but funny men can go bad. Just like Krusty the Clown. The odd thing with The Cos was that he seemed to delight in pointing out the flaws of other blacks in his lectures on morality.
And then he gets caught with his hand – or some other appendage – in the cookie jar.
Maybe Donald Trump should build a wall around Cosby?
Oh, Trump! I was really too young to fully appreciate the demagoguery of George Wallace, so Trump has been educational for me. I mean he has insulted women, Hispanics, prisoners of war and just about every other voter group there is. And his lead in the Republican primary just keeps growing.
I had no idea the racist voice in the GOP was so strong.
Oh, Trump has a compelling Horatio Alger story to be sure. He pulled himself up from his bootstraps to become a multi-billionaire. And it must have been hard to reach his bootstraps because they were covered by the $200 million he inherited from his father.
Why, he must have been severely handicapped with money coming out of his eyes, his mouth, his whatever …
Of course, being so handicapped, you’d think that he might have more empathy for the physically challenged. But you’d be wrong.
Nor was Trump the only craziness in 2015.
On Christmas Day Phoenix struggled to reach 40 degrees – while in my hometown of Westerly, R.I. it was 69 degrees! I moved to Arizona to escape winter! Man, what the heck is happening?
Not to worry, though. If a global warming disaster befalls the world, we still have all that grain that Joseph stored in the pyramids. We might have forgotten all about that if Ben Carson hadn’t reminded us.
It was a crazy, sexy year. But enough about me!
The year kicked off with the New England Patriots winning Super Bowl 49. Yet hardly anyone was talking about the game; everyone was titillated by deflated balls.
I didn’t even know you could talk about deflated balls on TV; wasn’t that on George Carlin’s list?
People seemed to be madder over the Patriots’ cheating than Volkswagen’s! Sheesh. One might have affected one football game, the other could impact life on the planet.
We need to get our priorities straight.
I mean there just wasn’t enough coverage of Kim Kardashian this year. Every “Kim” story was about some town clerk who appointed herself Guardian of the Galaxy.
Well, 2015 is in the rear-view mirror and I, for one, am ready for 2016.
This is the year I finally write my bestselling novel!
Oh, I know what you’re thinking: “You’ve said that before!”
But the 40th time’s the charm!
John Christian Hopkins, an award-winning novelist and humor columnist, is a member of the Narragansett Indian Tribe. See his writings at http://authorjohnchopkins.blogspot.com.