An Auld Lang Syne Nighthawk
Vol. 133, December 31st, 2024 Published a Day Early Online
For Auld Lang Syne
That song, man. I pushed Play, and swayed along as Frank Sinatra sang it at the last show of 2024. My buddies up in C’ville sang along with me. What a year it’s been. We’ve jumped around to James Brown, sang the National Anthem, Elvis, and even a few hymns. Started a podcast called The C’Dogs with the pals in C’ville, and even got that on the 6 ‘o clock news. The solar eclipse happened, we got some views of Saturn, and started a workbook about life stories. (It’s way behind, but I will finish that in 2025 so we can all start writing our thoughts down.)
Carol S. out in Roanoke has been sending along all sorts of nifty Appalachian words for this paper.
Mom’s chickens have provided endless inspiration for writing, and a new move for The Chicken Dance. If you’ve seen me do it, you know. I pride myself on absurdity. It’s peak.
There are four new apple trees in my back yard next to three new beehives, and a new house to boot. We’ve had some great conversation and correspondence, and most of all, laughs.
Orion roams the sky in the frosty dark, while Sirius twinkles over the mountain. The golden strains of Auld Lang Syne filter by. I’m raising a cup of cheer to you.
Happy New Year!
New Year’s Greetings
Best wishes for a happy and whimsical 2025 from Josh and a Chicken.
Quote of the Week
“A man never shows his own character so plainly as by the way he portrays another’s.”
–Richter
Happy Birthday West Virginia
Lincoln signs the papers today, 1862. Statehood becomes official in June.
Carol’s Appalachian Word of the Week
Bed clothes (bed linens). “I’ve got to strip the bed clothes and and start the laundry.”
Song of the Week
“Auld Lang Syne”
Guy Lombardo’s national New Year’s Eve broadcast from 1929-76 of this Burns work earned him “The only Canadian to create an American Tradition”. (Variety)
Letters from Josh
(A weekly update from Josh Urban’s adventures on the farm and in the city. #218)
Appearing in the Altavista Journal, etc: A Better Year Ahead
Howdy, folks, and welcome back to the show! Well, we made it. We’re here. Happy New Year. 2025 will be a good year. I can feel it. Forgive me for thinking I’ve jinxed the past decade with my enthusiasm. “This is my year.” Then the circus happens. It’s enough to give anyone a complex. But I think we’re good now.
Any new start is a blessing, but it seems that after 2024 (and ‘23, and ‘22, and...) it’s an extra reason to toast the dawn.
After I’m done with the initial rounds of cheers and thanks, I’ll be setting out for a long winter’s walk, notebook in hand. The creek will beckon, so I’ll wander by, stopping to watch the clear water flow onward, forever onward. The hill, if it could talk, would say hello, so up my feet will go, deep in thought, as I plot and plan for 2025.
Some folks avoid resolutions. I make lists pages long. Sometimes, they get done. Others are as hopeful as buying houseplants, and meet with the same disappointing end. Cooking is a perennial failure on my list. (But this year will be the ticket. At least we’ll get a good story or three out of it.) Other things come true. So I dig brainstorming.
On the docket: What’s next for the Nighthawk? What would you like to read? Now, as a DJ, asking the room for song requests is risky. “Oh, so sorry, I didn’t bring Justin Bieber’s Christmas album.”
But sometimes, the oddball ones turn out great. Once, a kid kept asking for “Bohemian Rhapsody” at his middle school dance. After the third time, I finally played it, and watched in amazement. The teenagers gathered ‘round, waved their cell phones–flashlights on–like lighters, and everyone bellowed along.
“Maaaamaaa! Just killed a mannnnn....”
I considered myself schooled. It became a tradition.
What will 2025 bring for this letter? We get to go on adventures of the best kind here: I go out in the rain, and we all get to chuckle if I fall in a puddle. The purpose of this piece is to lift up, bring a smile, and light a candle.
So where to, folks? Should we explore the towns from Lynchburg to North Carolina, or snag a train into a murky southern night? Head west to the heartland to find a soda fountain on an old main street, or stay close to home, planting an heirloom rose garden? I’m always eager to hear gardening advice, and general advice, for that matter. Send it along if you’ve got it. Good conversation is on my list. Building an observatory for the old-school telescope is a given. You’ll be invited to the opening ceremony. It seems it’s high time to start another book, and finish that one I’ve been working on. The mountains are always calling, there are swarms of bees to catch, and apple trees to plant.
Yes, I have a good feeling about 2025. Most of all, I want to live it. And then bring that to you. So I’ll be roaming the fields, jotting ideas down in my little notebook. If you’ve got any, send ‘em along. Let’s rock it.
Most of all, Happy New Year.
–Josh