One of my favorite signs in the world is at the Milwaukee airport:
The airport director installed that sign in 2008 because he knew how weird and disorienting it can be to go through an airport—standing in the lines, taking off your shoes, roaming endless corridors, racing to the gates. We all need a place to stop for a second, take stock, clear our heads. You know, recombobulate.
I hope all of you have had wonderful and restful holidays. But if you’re like me, some days have felt like an eternal walk through an unfamiliar terminal. This has been a discombobulating year. I thought what we’d do, here in this final post of 2025, is share our stories with one another about how the year went for us.
I’ll start us off—I promise I won’t take much time—and afterwards, I hope you take a moment and drop into the comments to let us know about your year. One thing I always looked forward to this year was stepping into this space, writing a little something, and hearing back from so many of you with your own stories and thoughts and kind words. I’m so glad we’ve built this place together.
Alix and I set out to make this a year of rest, recovery and renewal. You might remember that her mom died two days before Christmas last year. She had lived with us for five years. Some mornings I still expect her to come around the corner at breakfast time, wrapped in her blue bathrobe, looking for coffee and cereal. Both Alix and I have lost other dear friends and family members over the years. But none of them were living with us when it happened. It’s not that we are in deep grieving every day … but her memory lingers with us, and catches us in unexpected ways.
The other major personal thing that happened this year is that my knee blew up. One Sunday night we were watching TV and all of a sudden my right knee swelled up and hurt so bad I couldn’t stand on it. Much later a doctor told us he thinks there was a small fracture in one of the bones and something I did irritated the broken place. The pain has mostly subsided now, but the knee is still unstable—I’ve been using a walker or a cane to get around. I’ve been hobbling on bad knees for years—mostly because of my weight, partly because I spent about 20 years as a die-hard basketball player, running around for untold hours on concrete courts. The upshot is that I’m getting a knee replacement next month. I’m not especially looking forward to the rehab, but I am very much looking forward to ambling around like my old self again.
My work life had its own fractures. I left WFAE after seven-plus good years—the station took a big financial hit thanks to our current administration, and I was looking to write full-time, so it felt like the right moment to take a buyout. I’m still on good terms with the people there and am rooting for them (please donate to the station if you can). I’ve been doing some magazine work and crafting a proposal for a book that I hope to launch next year. I’ve also got another project or two that I’ll announce shortly. I’m keeping busy.
What I ended up enjoying most this year was the little things—dinner with good friends, a sip of bourbon on a summer night, a long talk with Alix as our cat dozed in her lap. I’ve tried to keep my phone out of my hands in favor of just looking at and listening to the amazing world around us. A couple of days ago I was in a waiting room at the doctor’s office, about to get blood drawn in prep for this knee surgery. An old woman in a wheelchair was sitting across from me with her son, and another woman was sitting catty-cornered between us. The old woman was trying to remember a breakfast place up near where she lived, but the name kept escaping her.
“Denny’s?” the other woman finally said.
“Yes!” the old woman said. “You know the one? Off of Sunset?”
“It’s not as good as it used to be,” the other woman said. “But I used to love that place.”
And they spent the next few minutes reminiscing about that old Denny’s, all the good times and Grand Slams, and it made me want to skip the blood work and take them all to breakfast. I could have had my head in my phone and my earbuds in. But instead I had the best five minutes of my day.
OK. That’s enough from me. Let me know a little about what your year was like. Let’s recombobulate together. Happy New Year to all of you. Thanks so much for sharing this space.
—TT
For this perpetual Pollyanna, this has been a hard year for finding the light. This administration has brought me to the point of despair many times.
Still, Bill and I just celebrated our 57th anniversary, our sons want to spend time with us, friends abound and always bring joy. I have seen lovely snows already this year and expecting a little more tonight.
Good books and beautiful music give perspective and solace in troubling times.
I feel optimistic that things will improve in 2026.
Tommy, I'm a little like you in that I write a Substack that (thankfully!) pays me some money, but my main source of income has been my day job -- until this year. Earlier this month, I got the word that my role is being eliminated early next year, thanks to my company's upcoming merger with another. It's nothing personal, nothing to do with me, and still... it stings, you know?
I know there are brighter days ahead, but this is also a time I know I need to regroup and reassess, and I don't know what the future holds. So, I know at least a little of what you're going through, and I'm excited and encouraged by the way you jump joyfully into the next thing, especially with your book projects. Best of luck to you in the new year, and to us all!