Show of hands, who got a pay raise?

Shadow of the Gecko        (just a random lanai shot)

   Well, here we are five days into the new year and I've been already wondering how it's going to end.
   Twenty-twelve was full of ups and downs and ups again and the coming months (should I survive) will include (yet) another household move and (sigh) another ex-wife.
   But the fact that I've been able to rejoin the workforce to a degree is good news indeed and even though I'd rather be watching the Packers right now (I'm trapped by something called 'Poppy Cat' which is cat nip to my daughter) I am feeling far more buoyant about the new year than I was about the last one at this juncture.
   Most people I've spoken to who have received 2013 paychecks just shake their heads and grin a resigned grin, noticing that their take-home pay is now smaller even though every lawmaker (and his or her dog in DC) said into every available microphone that they were going to protect taxes from increasing "on 98% of Americans."
   Well, we should have know that it depends on what your definition of "taxes" is, or "98%," or "Americans" or "representative government" for that matter. It's like a comedy with no laugh track and should come as no surprise as they've taken to Photoshopping official photographs without a hint of shame.
   Still, when you live in what passes for the best country in the world you can always keep lowering the bar and remain ahead.
   I'm just afraid one of these days the bar is going to be lowered on our children's heads as they stagger aimlessly down the sidewalk glued to their smartphones.
   I think I'll just keep taking it a day at a time (since the Mayans may have been off a scosh and the world really won't end until Jan. 21).
   So before fully launching into 2013, a slight return to 2012 may be in order for some who are new to this blog.
   There was an eye cast toward naked Europeans; my recollections of a prison visit; the adventures of the buffoonish Berlusconi and other morons; some rather questionable marketing from the Brits; the new normal established after the Aurora shootings; Putin’s nagging 'poosy’ problem; sifting through the remains of a parade of elephants that stomped through Tampa; an examination of some un-herd animal groups; and (finally 'back to work') a sobering interaction with a Pearl Harbor survivor who cheated death twice.
   And if you've made it this far, please consider becoming a Follower (aka 'one of the chosen phew') of Gnus to Ewes.
   Just imagine dropping the jaws of the jealous as you work, "Well, I just read in Gnus to Ewes ... blah, blah, you loser," into your next cocktail party blather or needle-exchange waiting room chit-chat.
   Becoming a Follower costs you nothing but grants you eternal gratitude and quite possibly worthy mention in my will (which I resolve to craft this year).
  And if you're searching for more virtual stimulation, you can give this clueless dude some love.