New year, new Observer, new Arkansas Times. (Same old pandemic, but let’s put that aside momentarily. Just humor us.)
After kvetching through 2021, it’s time for the hacks at the corner of Scott and Markham to put some gratitude out into the universe and see if it doesn’t boomerang back in the form of a little joy. The strategy of showing some appreciation for the good things and building from there has never been our style. But in 2022? Live, laugh, love, baby. We’ve never uttered that phrase before, but let’s all try it, why don’t we? We’ll smile more. Seriously, we will.
The first step in this journey to happiness is a lobotomy. Barring that (lack of universal health care puts frontal lobe rejiggering out of reach for working folks like us) we plan to scrub the negativity from our minds by burning dried sage bundles and dramatically curtailing our time on social media. Weed out the accounts that don’t bring you joy, is the plan. So, @ARGOP goes, Gay Cats (@gayocats) stays. WeRateDogs (@dog_rates) is a keeper, but filter out anything about Arkansas politics. Pets and babies are what we’re after. Wash away disenchantment with Little Rock Second Baptist Church pastor Preston Clegg (@CleggPreston), whose posts remind even atheists that faith can still be about peace and kindness. Wow friends and co-workers with holiday-themed snack trays you find on Pinterest. Watch funny TikTok videos of people falling down, but only the ones where nobody really gets hurt.
Next stop: a 12-month-long schedule of movies cast entirely by CGI animals and cute pixelated beasts. Out with cerebral horror flicks, in with the plot-pausing musical numbers and voicework from Matthew McConaughey. Less Kubrick, more Pixar. Less “You,” more “Sing.” Thanks to the retrograde thinking and the shameless greed from the Repubs at the state Capitol, “Squid Game” and “Handmaid’s Tale” are our actual reality in Arkansas, y’all; we don’t need to turn to TV to get our dystopia fix. (And yes, “Monsters, Inc.” gets a pass, even though it’s 100% a metaphor for climate change, because: Cyclops-Medusa Jennifer Tilly.)
We’re gonna need a less existential playlist, too. (Sorry, Mitski, it’s been real.) Sure, there’s a lot to be said for the catharsis of an hour alone in the dark with Billie Eilish on the box, but that hour’s run its course, trendsetters, and if we do any more catharting we’re gonna implode. That Pet Shop Boys LP gathering dust on the shelf? It’s lookin’ pretty damn good right now. Remove from playlist: “Driver’s License” by Olivia Rodrigo. “Easy On Me” by Adele. “River” by Joni Mitchell. The entirety of Tori Amos’ “Little Earthquakes.” Anything — I repeat, ANYTHING — by Soccer Mommy, Anohni, Elliott Smith or Radiohead. Add to playlist: Scissor Sisters. Lizzo. Katy Perry. Live recordings of Bobby McFerrin concerts. Jojo Siwa. The Village People. DJ Minx. Spice Girls. ABBA. RuPaul. DEVO’s a toss-up; if you can listen while you’re cleaning the house and pretend the lyrics to “Beautiful World” are sung without irony, you might be OK.
The Observer will also no longer plop down in the busted 15-year-old recliner after returning home from work. There’s important work to be done, at least 30 minutes worth, maybe an hour. That sweet window just before dark could be utilized for some much-needed outdoor cardio to soak up whatever vitamin D is left, or trying to learn Spanish on the porch, or finally cleaning the seltzer cans out of the car, maybe reading something not for work, or making plans with friends to rekindle pandemic time lost over multiple backyard fires in the smokeless burn bowl the Observer’s friend purchased but hasn’t used. More doing, less what ifs. It’s 2020 too! Just kidding, no it’s not! It’s 2022, it’s finally time to address one or more of the countless goals we all think about but then ignore year after year. You know the ones. Now’s the time.
