An open letter to 2009.

Dear 2009,

Happy 1st January, me old mucker - your time has arrived at long last. It's a bit pressured coming at the end of a decade as people get a touch of deadline fever and try and squeeze everything in. 1969 we were on the moon, 1979 we were electing Frau Thatcher, 1989 we were ridding the world of Communism (it's still around a little bit, but mostly for the crack) and in 1999 we got a bit carried away and tried to stop the world from ending. Practical joke by some old bloke called Nostradamus.

2008 was a mildly inconsequential year - in some ways we needn't have bothered, we could have skipped from 2007 straight to you, but after several thousand of you the order seems to be quite important. We could have missed out economic misery and an entire 'nother year of Labour in power, Cherie Blair's book and that sodding Abba film. It even got to the desperate stage of giving everyone cash because our taxes were messed up, lower VAT rates to distract us from the fiscal cock-up and goodness only knows what they expected us to do with an extra second - economic stimulus gone mad, I tell you, especially when the extra second was at night. But no - as it was, the traditionalists had their way.

Please be kind to us - myself, this is my 25th year on the planet and as I approach my Silver Anniversary I feel the weight of history on my shoulders. As in the pressure to make some, even if I only end up with a colourful personal one. I'm not one for resolutions, really, but I might think of some for you - 2009 is an important year for me, it would be nice to have some goals to work towards.

At any rate - welcome, 2009 - may you shine favourably upon us and not be a twat.

All the best,

Sam