It’s December 26, 2011, Boxing day and the day to do an inventory of what you got for Christmas and compare it to what you wanted and weigh out the possible ramifications of what will happen, socially, if you return one thing for another. Luckily for me it was a fairly lean year, again and there’s no real need to return what was received nor what was given but it’d be interesting if I could expend this second chance to some of the other things I received this last year. For starters I’d like to take back that avalanche that knocked me off my feet at the top of the Grand Montets in Chamonix and carried me down a 1/4 of a mile. It wasn't the thoughts of death by suffocation or being slammed and broken into something that was not going to move that I regret (these thoughts help the day to day choices) but rather the downtime I had to endure as the result of my hyper extended left thumb being encased in a cast while it healed. The Grand Jorasses is challenging enough without not being able to grip a Nomic ice axe with my left hand. Then there was the decision to go to the Edinburgh Festival. Though that clown dance takes place in August choices need to be made early on in the year. Choices that you hope will make your time doing whatever monkey dance you’ve settled on for the month of August a smooth and productive endeavor. I wouldn’t take back my choice to do the festival but rather some of the choices that surrounded it. Advertising, show times and whatever expectations I thought I was entitled to. At the very least I would’ve saved a thousand pounds wasted on brochure advertising because I failed to realize that regardless of what street value I might have had in years past none of that mattered to audience members, the media nor my agent. Next was the petty grief I gave a particular individual in the offices of my agent on and off through the months of April into May (rick?). In these times of fear for your own job security and a certain need to not develop talent but rather fill orders put out there by the media I was wrong in dictating policy when in hindsight it was obvious that known of any of it was ever my call. Quite honestly, I was lucky they even let me near the building to film anything for Channel 4. To add to all that it's sad that the media and by default advertisers controlling most of what’s seen do not have a sense of humor. I won’t mention any names but you know who you are, Fosters. The Edinburgh Festival was a fucking coffin nail. One thing this year I would never return no matter what be offered in exchange was the privilege to direct a short film I wrote. To have the likes of Omid Djalili and Michael Smiley in front of me bringing to life something that was originally rolling around in my head like an empty beer can in the back of a pick-up truck was worth any amount of apathy heaped on me from past ignored efforts. Thank you gentlemen. Showing that finished short around was an amazing litmus test. The second short is on deck and the third and feature not far behind that. Who made all this possible? None of your Goddamn business. Three months of slinging jokes all over the wifi free world and its Christmas and the hard stare down the gun barrel of a new year where the immediate sights are filled with images of ice climbing, snowboarding and the chance to meet Morgan Spurlock. Boxing Day? Yes there are a few who over the past year I’d like to beat down with a cricket bat for being more of a coward than I was but I’d need to do such things in the presence of more than a dozen sympathetic witnesses. One or two might join in and rob me of the blame/credit for such actions. More than 12 and you get a round of applause when you’re finished and it’s always nice to have a big closer.