It was a year we all want to forget, but one we will always remember.  The year 2020 was challenging to say the least.  For some more than others.  The loss of life, employment, and livelihood exacerbated an already explosive political environment from the lead up to the U.S. elections to Brexit.  You might ask why anyone would want to reflect and relive some of those difficult moments and events, but I think it’s important to remember what we endured and the silver linings that make us better for it. 

It All Started With Kobe.

The news of his passing rocked the world.  It hit me harder than expected.  I had never met this person, yet in a way it had felt like I had grown up with him, having lived through my childhood and formative years watching him mature and evolve in the NBA.  At the time of his death, I wrote the following:

The guy transcended the game. A generation of kids grew up shouting “Kobe!” whenever they threw up some ridiculous shot, whether on a basketball court or into a trash can, bucket, bin, whatever. What Michael Jordan was to Generation X, Kobe was to Millennials. He bridged the divide between Jordan and the modern era’s reign of LeBron. He was our basketball superhero.

His tragic death brought the world together.  We cried and mourned, but we also celebrated Kobe.  We dug deeper into what made him great amidst his faults.  In retrospect, Kobe’s death set the tone for 2020.  It was a dismal start to a difficult year, but also a reminder to cherish every day and pursue greatness, no matter the challenges.  In my article, I concluded the following:

Notwithstanding his faults, Kobe’s greatness was generational. He transcended the sport that made him famous. His loss reverberates around the world in a way only few people do (I personally haven’t felt this way about a celebrity since Anthony Bourdain). But through all of this his legacy will live on. So many of us will still say “Kobe” when we aim for that impossible basket; we’ll all strive for a little more greatness every day; and hopefully we’ll cherish each day a little more, for we never know which one may be our last.

Quarantined.  

A little over a month after Kobe’s passing we entered quarantine. COVID-19 had reared its ugly head and wreaked havoc across the globe.  While I was able to sneak in some travel prior to the pandemic, there would be no eating around the world in 2020.   

So my wife and I hunkered down in our Tribeca apartment, all 650-700 square feet of it.  Our small living space morphed into office space during the day.  Separation between the personal and professional blurred to the point they were one and the same.  A steady dose of martinis, cosmopolitans, and red wine carried us through those early days.  New communication tools like Zoom made it possible to connect better with family and friends. 

We were fortunate.  We had jobs that permitted us to work from home, avoid close contact with others, and earn a living that was relatively pandemic-proof.  The restaurants, bars, and small businesses in our neighborhood did not fare as well.  We were one of the few residents that stayed in the neighborhood for the majority of the pandemic – many New Yorkers left.  We were right behind them months later, having grown tired of the small space, and the increased homelessness and crime in our neighborhood.   

In the meantime though, we embraced our situation as best as possible.  We committed to our work from home life and like so many other people, explored new hobbies, even attempting to make crêpes at one point.  I dove headfirst into books and music, organizing an imaginary music festival.  When The Last Dance documentary aired as many of us were collapsing from live sports withdrawals, it was like a magical elixir suddenly appeared.  It also served as a reminder to everyone that Michael Jordan is still the greatest basketball player ever.  In case anyone needed reminding.  

Then the Streets Got Serious. 

George Floyd happened.  Protests broke out.  America looked like 1968 all over again, but this time under pandemic conditions.  We debated civil disobedience and the best forms of protest.  People took to the streets outside our apartment and demanded much needed police reform (which should be focused on unions, not complete defunding).  Trump supporters also showed up:

Politics heated up as we neared the November elections.  I had begged the Republican Party to rediscover its moral compass and soul, but unsurprisingly, nothing changed.  Instead of attempting to heal the country, Trump further inflamed the culture wars and continued to convince his base to vote against their interests.  

I predicted that Democrats would do well if they focused their attention on Georgia.  Although Biden did not pick Stacey Abrams as his running mate, Democrats rallied around her and other Georgians and executed one of the most successful get out the vote campaigns in the country’s history.  They registered some 800,000 new voters in the once deep red state.  This effort undoubtedly helped turn the state in Biden’s favor.    

Meanwhile, the culture wars continued to flame, and not all of it was Trump’s doing.  Amy Cooper revealed her inner racist to the world, but then people took “cancel culture” to its extremes.  Suddenly the term, “Karen”, was a socially acceptable moniker for a white woman behaving badly.  This movement horrified me, especially considering many of the same people that were part of it were the same people calling for equality, social justice, and civil liberties for all.  I stated in my article at the time:

Your use of “Karen” is racist.  While there are many obnoxious middle-aged white women who suffer from bouts of privilege and racist tendencies, lobbing pejorative labels their way is hypocritical and demeaning to white women as a class.  This is especially true when many of the people tossing around the label are self-proclaimed “Karen Experts” and ardent defenders of civil rights.  Why not call certain behavior for what it is?  Or certain people for who they are?  Racist.  Entitled.  Privileged.  Obnoxious.  Xenophobic.  Is it therapeutic to put white women in the “Karen” box when you witness one white woman behaving badly?           

Yet Life Continued. 

Following the summer of culture wars, protests, and a calming pandemic, life continued.  The only travel I did was through books, I had an interesting and somewhat troubling interview at Amazon, and I figured out ways to get ahead at my current job, despite working remotely.    

And then we left New York City.  Hopefully not for good.  The change was bittersweet.  But with a new member of the family arriving in early 2021, work from home life remaining for a while longer, and our small apartment shrinking by the day, we needed more space.  I expressed these bittersweet feelings at the time:

Despite all of this though, I am still bullish on New York City long term.  It is a city that endured through the Great Depression, two world wars, white flight in the 1970s, 9/11, and the 2007-08 financial crisis.  I feel intense guilt for not persevering throughout the entirety of this pandemic, but six months of supporting the city and its high taxes was all we could take – economically, mentally, and emotionally.  

Breathing fresh air and not running from homeless men on the way to the parking garage has its perks.  My wife and I now have our own offices, and while we miss the city, it’s not like I was taking my pregnant wife to restaurants, bars, and coffee shops.  We were purposely avoiding people at all costs.  It’s easier to do that out in the “country” of upstate New York.  

The Election Happened, Trump Screamed Fraud with No Basis, and COVID-19 Raged.

Before the election happened, I predicted what Trump would do should he lose.  At the time, I assumed he would lose somewhat gracefully – I wasn’t expecting a thoughtful concession, but I also was not anticipating him screaming fraud with no evidence.  Not to mention the numerous Republican-run states that contradicted and countered his every attempt to orchestrate what was effectively a coup.    

I then reflected on 8 events that we would never forget from the 2020 election.  History will not bode well for Trump or the Republican Party given their concerted efforts to undermine democracy.  At least we experienced Four Seasons Total Landscaping and Giuliani’s hair dye.  

These political events raised serious questions and concerns, however.  How should we check presidential power in a post-Trump world?  We certainly do not need to experience another authoritarian despot in the Oval Office again.  On a more personal level, it made me ask: can you separate a person from their politics?  The answer may surprise you.  For a good book into Trump’s financial situation and the implications it might have for his post-presidential life, I recommend reading Dark Towers. 

While Trump was screaming about election fraud with no evidence, the coronavirus was spreading.  Holiday travel didn’t help, nor did American’s COVID-fatigue.  We proved to the world that intense feelings about freedom can be detrimental during pandemic times.  At least there is hope on the horizon with news of effective vaccines that have received regulatory approvals.  The news is a hopeful end to an otherwise dismal year. 

Goodbye, 2020.  

It was the most challenging year of my life, and I had it easy compared to others.  Apart from the professional challenges of working from home (in a small space most of the time!), the most significant challenges were personal.  From family and friends who lost their jobs, to heated political debates that turned personal and fractured relationships, 2020 was far from easy.  

In the final reflection of 2020, I think we should end it with the wise words of 2Pac:

I know it seem hard sometimes

But remember one thing

Through every dark night, there’s a bright day after that

So no matter how hard it get

Stick your chest out, keep your head up, and handle it