Every journey ends.
Every journey, dear reader, that begins with but a single step, ends with a final one. The final step for your intrepid correspondent was taken with a tripping, stumbling, decidedly un-Baryshnikovian gracelessness, as I bowed out of our towering competition in the bottom 15% or so, at the initial cutline.
For me, then, it is on to next year, with sights set high.
For the rest of you? Well, if you find yourself fortunate enough to be among those mentioned herein, perhaps glory still awaits. The cutline has come and gone, and we are in to the final rounds of the RazzSlam. Let us, together, gaze upon the leaderboard and see what separates those generals still marshaling their forces upon the field of battle and, well, me. Shall we?
Please, blog, may I have some more?