How would you respond to the question, “Is 98.6 normal?” Perhaps, “It’s an angle that’s not quite perpendicular,” or “Sounds like Bermuda shorts weather to me.” Maybe you would prefer, “In Celsius, it’s when water is about to boil,” or “That’s body temperature.” All these replies have a measure of truth to them and might be considered normal. One quarter of the way through the 21st century, “new normals” have arrived, whether we like it or not.

Besides bait for mousetraps shifting from cheese to peanut butter, another new normal is the time required for communication within the family. After holidays decades ago, Mother wrote letters to my grandparents in a neighboring state to inquire about plans and locations for subsequent family gatherings. Her letter took a week to get there and another week for a response to come. Today’s expectation is that answers to such questions should arrive via cell phone within a matter of minutes.

Fewer and fewer folks dedicate time now to mail-written thank you or birthday cards, instead investing a precious minute or two to text a heart, emoji or maybe a word or two. New norms might seem convenient but letting go of the old can be difficult.

Normal congestion of in-town traffic is frustrating while the price of a dozen eggs or filling the car up with gas can put a dent in your wallet. Then, there’s the issue once you’ve loaded grandchildren up with candy, popcorn and a soda at the movie theater, you might require a defibrillator when the total appears on the register. Costs today are reminiscent of Mary Tyler Moore shrugging her shoulders after seeing the price on a package of ground beef during the ’70s, rolling her eyes, then chucking it into her shopping cart.

Let’s admit it. Normal is in perpetual flux.

Pioneers cooked over open flames before wood-burning stoves became a modern convenience in the 1800s. Then gas and electric stoves became hot items, so to speak. Now microwave ovens like George and Jane Jetson used in 1963 are in most every home. Home cooking is fast becoming a lost art.

Students use calculators for math and AI to write essays. Thomas Edison’s light bulbs aren’t normal any longer; LED light sources are. I saw a rotary wall phone on display in the Smithsonian last April. It won’t be long before a telephone directory will join alongside it and grandchildren will ask, “What’s that?” pointing through the display window. If told it’s how phones used to look in olden days, they’ll say, “No… I mean that book next to it.”

Encyclopedias and dictionaries are next for extinction.

Other new norms are both unwelcome and annoying. It’s not uncommon during a meal at a local eatery to encounter foul language drifting across the room as if full of sailors on shore leave after six months at sea. Additional users of profanity are found in the halls of Congress as well, hoping to convince listeners of nightly news that their opinions are correct. Evidently offensive present participles (a verb ending with ing) are included within oratories to convince watchers their opinions are more forthright and eloquent when their mouths are blurred and words bleeped out. Based on personal experience, I could guarantee my mother would wash their mouths out with soap if she had the opportunity.

Here’s wishing you find new norms in 2026 that bring added time with family as you enjoy good health, pleasant dinners and conversation at your favorite restaurant in addition to the old norm of handwritten cards and letters that warm the soul in your mailbox.

A reduction of political acrimony would also be welcome. If only AI could provide a new norm in future news reports. Give them to us Walter Cronkite-style, devoid of personal commentary while ending today’s broadcast with “…and that’s the way it is, January 6, 2026.”