The clock struck midnight. Perfect fun. The perfect kiss. The perfect way to ring in a new year full of possibilities. Another year older. And wiser?
Well, I think perfection is personal. The truth is that I can only remember one or two times that I actually even had fun on New Year’s Eve, and the rest of my attempts were dreadful disappointments.
Stuck at a celebration with a roomful of strangers. Or people I didn’t like. Or a date I no longer liked. Or stuck with no plan at all, which when I was single felt like certain death. At least socially.
I’ve never liked a crowd, so venturing to Times Square and other mass crushes of humanity were not in the equation. First Night festivities in the various cities where I’ve lived sounded alluring. But nope: too cold.
Over time, and I guess as kids came along, the draw to get in a car and go out on what’s commonly termed “amateur night,” to dodge a stream of drunk drivers, disappeared.
No thanks. I don’t need to see a police officer posted on virtually every corner to know that most of the drivers I’ll see out there can barely see themselves.
In its pure sense, maybe New Year’s Eve was more popular in days gone by, the true auld lang syne, when folks put on a good face and looked to the future to erase the difficulties of the present they lived in.
I don’t know that people do that now. I know I will stay in with my immediate three. We’ll have a nice dinner. Play some games. And maybe watch a movie. If we’re lucky we’ll still be awake at midnight.
More than that though, we’ll wake up tomorrow to look to that future, together and in one piece. Which actually sounds as perfect as it gets at this point in my life. I’m wishing you, my dear friends in the blogosphere, your own personal perfection, too, as we all ring in the new year. Here’s to staying safe tonight and looking toward our dreams tomorrow.