Good Morning.

So....was 2022 any better?


Maybe.

A year ago, I was stuck in the maintenance bay. Doing a project that "the powers" thought I'd be good at, but in a hate-filled fascistic atmosphere. In the end, it appeared to be for naught, as that parts room is a shambles again, and all the data I entered to the inventory control system, I presume, remains untouched.

But things got better, slowly but surely. We had a wild season. Like all many other "hard" industries, we too had problems filling the ranks. We had fewer drivers this year than I had during my brief stint as head conductor. Somehow, we made it. It's not the pay for us, which is ahead of any other tour company in Boston, it is actually the work. Not everybody can do what we do, and the attrition rate is high. But it can be quite lucrative.

That lucre was a welcome sight at the end of the season. At the beginning of 2022, we were still feeling the aftereffects of the Covid Recession. Rent was late, cards were maxed out, and the old paycheck-to-paycheck routine was well in play. We're headed into winter with money in the bank, cards paid down, a new motorcycle in my garage, and two trips to Florida in the rear-view mirror now. Hard lessons learned during The Great Recession still pay off.

On the home front - Javi is back home, ready for that last semester at JWU. Graduation looms on the horizon in mere months now. He's remaining an honors student, and somewhere along the way, as many college students do, he's managed to find a companion. Not sure if she's going to be "the one", but just because Mrs. TriSec and I didn't figure this out until we were 30 doesn't mean that Javi and Aneesa can't find the same thing at a younger age.

Papa TriSec remains well - still living alone, still working, still playing music, and approaching the age of 89 next March. My mother-in-law, of the same age, is somewhat slower, but is still getting along as well.

Perhaps the most wondrous thing of all though - on Christmas Day, we all went up to New Hampshire and had our normal Christmas Brunch. Like many families, Brother TriSec is the differently-winged one, and I had actually stopped speaking to him before Covid. Those Covidian years seemed to seal the deal - but he reached out to me about two weeks before Christmas, and it seems like fences have been mended slightly.

2023 looms on the horizon in mere hours. I don't suppose we have to bury this year in a shallow grave in the woods, unlike the last few.