The bar at the Billy Goat tavern was as good a place as any to end a memorable 2016. As one of the many forgettable college football bowl games played in the background over the constant buzz of chatter, this conversation might have taken place anytime in the last month.
Turk: "I still can't believe it happened."
Codger: "We've lost our identity."
Turk: "It seems crazy."
Codger: "Nothin' is forever."
Turk: "Shit, sometimes it takes management by a madman."
Codger: "He said it: 'Whatever you put out there will come back to you,' didn't he?"
Turk: "I trusted the old revolutionary over guys and gals that color and do their big, phoney hair."
Codger: "Like he also said, '“The process is fearless, because I don't want to spend time on the outcome.'"
Turk: "Wait, what's Joe Maddon got to do with this shit? I'm talking about Bernie."
Turk: "Sanders. You know, #FeelTheBern."
Codger: "Fuck, I don't give a shit about TRUMP. #FUTrump. I saw that on the sidewalk across from that damn hotel at Thanksgiving."
Turk: "Yeah, but they washed it away the next day. I still can't believe it happened. I mean, WTF."
Codger: "It happened. 'When you're goin' thru hell, keep going.' Wait 'til this year. Turns out, curses aren't forever. By the way, thanks again Sam for lifting that old fucking curse."
The next day, it came to me. At least Hamilton is down the street. "And when my prayers to God were met with indifference, I picked up a pen, I wrote my own deliverance." Goodbye, 2016. Hello, 2017.