At the end of the year

On Christmas, at another almost-half of the immediate family event, something occurred which I have never encountered before. As the prominent economist Walter E. Williams said while substituting for Rush on Friday, he (and I) have lived one-third of the time the U.S. has existed.

That's how many years during which I have not previously seen the following: Younger daughter, who had felt poorly for several days, suddenly had a coughing fit, and rushed into the bathroom. As we heard the coughing continue, someone inquired, "Are you OK?" From her refuge, we heard her say, "No," in a weak little voice. I had never heard anything but, "Yes," before.

She was frightened by circumstances that we need not discuss here unless the subsequent testing reveals something life-threatening. I was impressed with her sister, however, who treats horses for a living, but here exhibited a good bowl-side manner that was very calming.

Parenthetically, in many TV dramas, after some character who has been shot or beaten or both and lying supine on the ground, is asked, "Are you OK?" I am still waiting for one of the victims to respond, "Do I look OK?"

PER RECENT TRADITION: Happy early New Year. A little more than 40 years ago, I celebrated New Year's Eve at Jack London Square in Oakland. The boats were still bedecked with Christmas lights, and loud music emanated from each of the many bars. I had a couple of stingers, my favorite alcoholic concoction, kissed someone at midnight, and looked for but did not find her lost earring on the way home. I haven't gone out on New Year's Eve since. I imagine it's too late for you to invite me now.

FYI: "Obama Ahkbar" was published without that title, and without the slash, which I thought ably connoted two lines of (bad) poetry.