The online news about a Harley from the Japan tsunami washing ashore in British Columbia had a calming effect on the collective mindset about the impending apocalypse scheduled for 12-21-12 in that even after such a cataclysm life resumed normalcy, especially since the Harley’s owner is alive and well in the Miyagi prefecture. Of course the bike has been trashed by its oceanic voyage and sandblasting on the beach. Over 1.5 million tonnes of debris are en route for the West Coast, so these stories will continue to plague the front pages of newspapers and the feel-good leads on TV until the End of Times.

The ex-model from Paris had been praying for my salvation. She was certain that the End was near. Communications between us stopped after her saying that I was going to drown in the fiery blood of Jesus and soon.

I differ with her views on doom, for I was born with the placenta wrapped around my face. Celtic tradition bestow psychic powers on those infants ‘wearing of the veil’. There is some truth to the power. Once I dreamed the winners to three races at Aqueduct. Ghosts have appeared to me three times and respected my wishes to leave a drunk alone. My deceased mother regularly visits my dreams, but she has never mentioned the Days of Days.

Will fire and brimstone rain from the skies on 12-21-12?

My Magic 8 Ball (Just a temporary aid to divine the future when my seering powers have been short-circuited from too many kamikazes) says, “Not likely.”

I asked if New York would be spared Armageddon.

“Seems likely.”

In the 1830s a New England preacher foretold the end of the world at a specific date. The only course of salvation was for those convinced of the Day of Judgment to jump from the highest building they could find at noon. Hundreds leaped from church steeples and barns, resulting in scores of broken legs and hundreds of sprained ankles.

Bring it one.

I’ll be in Frank’s Lounge having a beer or Sri Racha with Fenway and Mam Above.

Counting our blessings.