Well ladies and gentlemen, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again.

That’s not really correct though.  The thing I’ve said before that I’ve admonished I’ll repeat is just the first few words of the statement.  After that, the statement wraps up with a snarky remark, something insightful, or a brilliant amalgam of both.

There comes a time ladies and gentlemen, when you just gotta call bullshit on the bullshit.

Brilliant.

Amalgam.

Of both.

Okay, now that the hook of today’s dispatch has been cast and set, let’s get on what brings me to the dais this morning.

Hang on one more moment though.  I need to embed a real dooshy tweet which offers a smattering of poignant irrelevance.

Not that anybody’s asked, but New Years Day on the Gregorian Calendar is a cosmically arbitrary event, carrying no Astronomical significance at all.

— Neil deGrasse Tyson (@neiltyson) January 1, 2018

For those of you not in the know, I turned 50 a few months ago.  In the 60 – something days since that particular event, I’ve effected a couple of paradigm shits which at this point have had no negative impact.

Author’s note – For all tents and porpoises, that Freudian Slip of a malaprop in the previous statement actually started out as a typo and was not originally intended.  Upon reading it in the context in which it was included, I just couldn’t bring myself to correct it.

Save for one particular change, I won’t go into internet-dulling detail about each of those changes outside of characterizing their overall theme.  That theme relies on a sense that I’ve established myself in society.

I know where I’ve been.

I know where I’m going.

I know what I can do.

I know what I can’t do.

For those of you wondering just what in tarnation I’m babbling about, let’s just say I’m at a point in my life where I don’t feel like the man is going to get me now that I’ve loosened up my dress code and shaving habits.

Aren’t you glad I didn’t go into details?

At the same time, I’ve taken a clip from that dooshy tweet I embedded up above by establishing my own arbitrary milestone for the passage of time.  Wouldn’t it make sense that all of our individual new years begin on our birthdays?  It’s not like we were all born on January 1st.

After all, the only reason we do that is for the benefit of the calendaring industry (Big Calendar).

Going forward, my new year starts on June 1st, and ends on May 31st.

Welcome to my world.