I Hear You Got a Resolution

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Art Kumbalek

I’m Art Kumbalek and man oh manischewitz what a world, ain’a? So listen, how was my merry focking Christmas the other week closing out another year that best be not named? I’ll tell you’s. I thought I’d take it easy on Santa, and so I had but two items on my wish list. #1: A bevy of Vegas showgirls. #2: My own private compartment on all county buses that run the No. 30 line (as I’ve said before, I find Todd Browning’s Freaks to be an interesting movie, but I’d rather watch it than have a cameo in it, I kid you not.) And wouldn’t you know, just like a Milwaukee Brewer at the plate with runners in scoring position, I came up empty. But hey, thanks for asking.

And I am aware, this being my first weekly essay of the year, that some of you’s may be expecting that this would be my much ballyhooed yearly Look Back/Watch Out Ahead gala essay. Guess again. That essay will appear soon, I hear, on this Shepherd website under the guise of my monthly essay, “From The City That Always Sweeps,” January edition, what the fock.

However, I can give you a couple, three bonus predictions for 2024 that didn’t make it into Swami Art Kumbalek’s January monthly schmutz. First off: The Green Bay Packers will make the NFL Playoffs provided they win the game at Lambeau Field versus the Chicago Bears, Sunday late afternoon, Jan. 7, 2024. How ’bout that? Betcha a buck two-eighty you didn’t see that coming back last September, ain’a?

Secondly: President-elect Art Kumbalek will enjoy a nice cocktail or three during the morning of Wednesday, Nov. 6, as he contemplates his proposed War On Stupidity initiative; thus to restore faith and commitment to American democracy.

Thirdly, I predict that fish will swim, birds will fly and insects will insect; although not as effectively as preferred, what the fock.

But I got to tell you’s, over the holidays I received a very nice and much appreciated card from a faithful reader, which caused me to reflect on what a very lucky fellow I am after all. We’re into January and the “holiday season” is much considered to be done and done, except by me. No sir. As I’ve said many times, many ways, every day’s just another focking holiday to a guy like me, you betcha. Yes sir, you name the day, and it’s sure-as-hell bound to be some kind of a focking holiday for Mr. Art Kumbalek. Nothing but seashells, balloons, topped with a generous dollop of you got to be jerking my beefaroni!!

Yet, I like to smile and welcome January as a month-long holiday from the holidays for the regular citizen, that “holiday” time we’ve needed to suffer through since, what, Halo-focking-ween, Columbus Day, United Nations Day, way back in October, which seems to be but a dream ago, I kid you not.

Yes sir, the focking holidays are kaput, finally, unless current and lapsed (my hand is raised) Catholics go all out for the Epiphany on the January 6, which according to my memory is this: “Christian holiday commemorating the first manifestation of Jesus Christ to the Gentiles,” represented by the Magi (yeah, those guys, with the one carting around the ferkakta myrrh). I don’t remember ever getting candy or any kind of present on this so-called “holiday,” but I do recall a little story, here in my later age:

Imagine the shy young man’s surprise when Pope Francis sat down in the seat next to him for the flight destined for New York City. Soon after takeoff, the pope began a crossword puzzle. “This is really swell,” the young man thought, “I’m really good at crosswords and if the pope gets stuck, perhaps he’ll ask me for assistance and I’ll get a gold pass to heaven.”

Shortly thereafter, the pope turned to the young man and said, “Excuse me, son, but I seem to be blocked on this puzzle. Do you happen to know a four-letter word that ends in ‘unt,’ u-n-t, and that refers to a woman?” Only one such word leapt to mind, a word the young man felt should not be uttered in the pope’s presence. He thought a moment, and as a bolt from the sky blue, turned to the pope and said, “I believe your holiness, that it is the word ‘aunt’ you seek—a-u-n-t.” And the pope said, “Of course, my son. ‘A-u-n-t.’ God bless you. I don’t suppose you happen to have an eraser?”

Ba-ding! And so in conclusion, I pray that you have not been a fool’s fool and made a declaration of any of those ferkakta New Year’s resolutions. As I am obligated to mention each and every year: Resolutions are for quitters, and quitters never win. So don’t be a loser. Screw all those New Year’s resolutions and be a winner, capiche? ’cause I’m Art Kumbalek and I told you so.