Searching for perspective, meaning in a thoroughly wretched year While racking my brain for ways to say good riddance to this (expletive-deleted) year, several home run calls popped into my head. Like Michael Kay’s “See ya!” And Bob Prince’s “Kiss it goodbye!” And Jeff Kingery’s “That ball is going, and it ain’t coming back.” Like many, I’m praying 2020 never, ever comes back. I’m wishing for a different ending to “Casey at the Bat” in 2021. I’m hoping there will be some joy in Mudville — and beyond. Heaven knows we could use some after being struck out on consecutive pitches by the nasty combination of pandemic, polarization and isolation. For many of us this has been a year of profound loss. Loss of loved ones. Loss of health. Loss of jobs. Loss of homes. Loss of civility and kindness. Loss of shared, in-person experiences that can’t be duplicated virtually on some phone or computer screen.