Untitled New Year's Eve Reflection.....

I get to work on New Year's Eve (well, technically, it'll be New Year's Day when I start, but I'll be sleeping though much of the pre-fab hub-bub that the television will serve up), and as such, my mind serves as host to The Ghost of Parties Past.

First of all, and I believe I've said this before, New Year's Eve is what my brethren refer to as "Amateur Night."  It's a night for people to go out and try to throw as much living into the few hours left in the previous year, so that they can spend the first few hours of the next year throwing up.

I've never bought into the idea that a tuxedo was necessary for a New Year's Eve Soiree, although I have been to several of those kinds of parties.  And still, a few people maintained the idea that they needed to get obnoxiously drunk and hit generally make an ass of themselves.

At this point, I'm reminded of a Dorothy Parker quote:  "You can lead a horticulture, but you can't make her think."

I've spent New Year's Eves in Tuxedos, in Grand Ballrooms with live orchestras; and I've spent them with a trash can filled with a toxic type of fruit punch dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt.  I've danced waltzes just after the countdown with a woman in a lovely red dress; and I've spent it sitting on a couch watching THE ADVENTURES OF BARON MUNCHHAUSEN after the traditional midnight make-out session with a girl in black jeans and a white t-shirt.

I've spent them drunk; and I've spent them sober.  And yes, on one New Year's Day I woke up with the feeling that I just couldn't do it anymore.

This year, I'll sleep through it, and work through it, and eat leftovers and drink a toast from the top of the building, and I'll thank the Universal Truth for the good of the past year, and request even more good for the next.

And you all will be in my thoughts and attached to the blessing for which I ask.

And hopefully, somewhere out there, there might be a few people who think kindly of me, as well.