OK, this is it. There’s nothing penultimate about this one. Today is the last full day before the end of the world as we know it. How do you feel? Tell me, how do you feel?
Right, I thought so. I’ve been counting down all the things that I am Not Gonna Miss come the rapture tomorrow, and I have to confess I’m feeling pretty good about it all. I’m not gonna miss the hair on The Donald, and I’m certainly not gonna miss Charlie Sheen and our loonyfauxtainment system – nor the prices we have to pay the damn cable companies to be loonyfauxtained.
There are so many things that will end too soon, it’s true, and so many hopes and dreams will die unrealized when the world ends tomorrow afternoon. Bummer.
But of all the things I’m Not Gonna Miss, speaking of hopes and dreams that die unrealized, there’s one thing that was always going to stand out at the top of this list.
Number 10: Donald Trump’s Hair.
Number 9: People who can’t drive in bad weather.
Number 8: Annoying Facebook status update memes.
Number 7: Cheap Beer.
Number 6: Natural Disasters.
Number 5: Prophesies about the End of the World that turn out to be wrong.
Number 4: Organized religions.
Number 3: Dieting.
Number 2: Celebrities who can’t handle celebrity.
Number 1: Watching the Chicago Cubs blow the pennant every damn year.
You know, a friend of mine mentioned the other day that I seemed like an optimist. “You amaze me,” she said, “you always seem to have faith that things will work out.” I responded with the simple truth: Of course I have faith. I’m programmed to have faith. I’m a goddamn Cubs fan. It’s what we do.
A lot can happen between May and October. Just because we nearly lead the league in runs allowed doesn’t mean we can’t pull it out. Right? Just because we haven’t won a World Series in a century doesn’t mean we won’t win it this year. This is next year! Who’s with me? Just because we haven’t even BEEN to a world series in 66 years doesn’t mean we won’t win it this year!
Yeah, it does. We won’t win it this year either. We know. But we’re still going to cheer. We’re still going to have faith that things will work out. We’re Cubs fans, after all. It’s what we do.
So please God, because I’m Not Gonna Miss watching the Chicago Cubs blow the pennant every damn year, call the Rapture tomorrow. Because Harry Caray is waiting for us all in Heaven: “Cubs win! Holy Cow!”