The Year of Radical Gratitude
5 is finally here. Most of us would agree that it couldn't come fast enough. 2020 felt like our mothers gave us a gigantic Time Out. Each morning I woke up to find my wife waiting with a thermometer. She wouldn't let me out of bed until she took my temperature. I was raised on Fahrenheit, so it was confusing.
"37 degrees? Shouldn't I be dead?"
"No, she said, "it's Celsius. You're fine. Give me a kiss."
Next, I adjusted my mask and we trundled off to the kitchen for breakfast, usually toast and an omelet with extra cheese and bacon and ham and four or five pieces of French toast. Then I clim...
