Just some widely scattered thoughts while waiting for the calendar page to flip over to 2009.

* Seems like just a couple of years ago when we were all sitting on the edge of our desk chairs, anticipating the utter chaos that would result from Y2K. The world was coming to an end and we would all be relegated to freeze-dried coffee and Slim Jims, as Loudon Wainwright III said, and we’d all have to learn how to play Solitaire with a deck of real cards. And you just couldn’t go anywhere without hearing Prince’s “1999”. What happened? Um. Nothing.

* There’s this car commercial that bugs me. A young couple are driving to some guy’s house in the mountains. “It’s gonna be good to see him,” she says. “He’s gonna freak,” he says. They arrive and hug and I’m thinking, “Can someone please tell me what’s going on here? Is this brother and sister? Husband and wife and third party? What’s going on?

* On April 1, (that’s right, April Fool’s Day) Diane and I will celebrate 20 years of wedded bliss. Amazing that she would put up with me for that long.

* I wish Barack Obama all the good fortune in the world, even though I didn’t vote for him. I figure, if he does well, the country does well.

* I miss the warm weather. OK, we’ve all had our Irving Berlin White Christmas. Everybody happy now? Can we please turn the heat back up?

* The New England Patriots were a lot of fun to watch this season. So were the Red Sox and the Celtics. And from what everybody tells me, I should become reacquainted with the Big Bad Bruins.

* Interesting choices for this year’s Kennedy Center Honors. Roger Daltry and Pete Townshend? What, Mick and Keith were busy? I figure it has something to do with all the CSI spinoffs.

* I still have never sent or received a text message. I’m told that streak will end in September when Rory goes to college. And I’ve never eaten sushi. That streak won’t end.

* I could watch nature shows on television all day. There is nothing like seeing two giraffes fighting. It looks like a typical fist fight in the NBA.

* At 78 years old, Clint Eastwood can still make a film that I’m compelled to go see.

* I wonder if Saturday Night Live will do to Caroline Kennedy what the gang did to Sarah Palin.

* This whole digital cable thing has me almost as worried as Y2K.

Dennis Shaughnessey’s e-mail is