My disappointing year

Taken last week, in front of my next residence.

 

This has been a year of disappointments — my own anus horribilis. (Or is it annus horribilis? I only took one year of high school Latin, so I’ve never been quite sure.)

It started in early February, when I was stunned to learn I had been passed over to become CEO of CNN. Unlike me, Chris Licht, who got the job, didn’t go to the prestigious Missouri School of Journalism, he only went to Syracuse whose J-school, back when I graduated in 1973, was considered second-tier. Take a look at the slogan under my name at the top of this blog page -- America’s Only Objective Journalist. It has been there since my very first post in 2012, back when CNN still had a modicum of journalistic credibility. If you are one of my thousands of loyal readers, you know that I, unlike CNN, have never failed to report accurately and fairly. CNN needed me, but it wasn’t to be.

Later that month, I was gobsmacked when President Biden, without even as much as a courtesy call to tell me I was out of the running, announced that the new Supreme Court justice would be an African-American woman, something I am not and didn’t have time to become before Ketanji Brown’s confirmation hearings began. Having watched every episode of the original Perry Mason … read (nearly) every John Grisham and Scott Turow novel … and served on the board of my community association where I was instrumental in helping adjudicate important disputes among residents about roof colors, landscaping decisions and other life-and-death matters … I was more than qualified. Plus I live just a few miles from Judge Judy who, I’m sure, would have gladly made herself available for consultation when I needed advice.  I’m even the father, son-in-law, uncle and brother-in-law of attorneys.  

This week was, hands-down, the most disappointing of all, when I learned I will not be devoting the rest of the years God grants me to the service of the United Kingdom and its Commonwealth. While I extend both condolences and congratulations to King Charles III, his new job should have been mine. I have more British blood coursing through my veins than he (though mine remains stubbornly red instead of blue). Every single one of my direct ancestors who came to America was born in England, Scotland or Ireland. More than half his direct ancestors are German. And I am younger than Charles III which means I would most likely have more years to dedicate to the service of the realm before passing the crown on to my eldest son who, like the King’s youngest son, has red hair but unlike Harry, wed someone likable.

 

My beloved wife, who would have become Judith I upon my ascension, is also bitterly disappointed. While I am fairly knowledgeable about British history — I subscribe to both the PBS/Masterpiece and BritBox streaming services— I’m a rank amateur compared to Judy, who can recite all the English monarchs, in order, beginning with William the Conqueror. Knowing the Queen was in failing health, she had already commissioned Lilly Pulitzer, whose clothes she wears almost exclusively, to create a gown for our coronation and it was near completion. I heard her on the phone, shortly after we got the news the Accession Council had named Charles the new monarch. She was choking back tears as she told the factory to stop work on her dress. As Queen Consort, Judith would have made sure the Crown Jewels were displayed in places where the world could see them — atop her head, around her neck and wrists, pinned to her bosom, and on her fingers — rather than behind shatterproof glass in the Tower of London where people have to wait in line to see them.

So yes, it has been a tough year. Frankly, I haven’t felt this discouraged since 2003 when I was passed over for superintendent of the Wilton (Conn.) public schools, a job I wanted despite the fact that, with rare exceptions, I don’t like children much, but was looking forward to writing a witty and engaging “Superintendent’s Corner” column for the local newspaper. 

That said, I remain optimistic because that’s the kind of guy I am. When life gives me a sucker-punch, I pick myself up and soldier on, looking forward to the next opportunity.  Speaking of which, the above photo was taken last week in front of the residence to which I hope to move on January 20, 2025. I’m planning my campaign as we speak. 

And for Judith, two words: Have faith. The gown you had intended to wear at our coronation will someday look great displayed in the Smithsonian Museum of American History next to dresses worn by Dolly Madison, Hillary Clinton, Michelle Obama, Melania Trump and other first ladies. 

Call Lilly Pulitzer and tell her to get back to work.