I've Already Broken Something This New Year

The New Year greeted us again last night in its habitual fashion, by arriving precisely at midnight. We all hailed its arrival with silly toasts and garrulous good cheer. Then I promptly went to bed. (Each passing year seems to find me commensurately older.)

As fate would have it, though, I am bearing into the new year a burden from the old: I broke my wrist on December 30th. While somewhat painful and humbling, I can proudly say I broke it falling off a rail (or "box") on a snowboard just two days after I learned to stand up on one.

One could argue a 38-year-old cream puff like me should not be trying tricks on a snowboard when he's barely learned to get down the hill on one. I say, "Bosh!"

If you're not falling down, you're not getting better … though it must be admitted that falling down offers no definitive proof you are getting better. Even so, with broken wrist and indomitable spirit, I resolve again to follow this maxim in the new year: Fail Big!