I admit my memory of this might be just a tad fuzzy.
A friend asked me the other day if I had a favorite memory of New Year’s Eve/Day. Why, yes. Yes, I do. I’m guesstimating it was 1967...ish.
As we get into this story, you may gain a better understanding of why my normally razor-sharp memory won’t permit me to report the year (or much else) with absolute certainty. It was a long time ago. Trust me, it did happen one New Year’s.
We had been to a party with a couple of neighbors, who I think are now in the Witness Protection Program in the State of Maine.
Let me interrupt myself here by confessing that I am a world-class sleeper. I regularly fall asleep in front of a TV sometime between 8 and 9 p.m. before I get up at 10 to go to bed, where I sleep as soundly as a Christmas baby. Nothing gets in the way of my sleep. Nothing. Sometimes I even have trouble making it through the 6:30 national news. Only those of us who have a clear conscience or perhaps no conscience at all will ever experience such peaceful sleep.
Back to the story…
This New Year’s Eve party rolled on and on, well into New Year’s Day. Miraculously, I stayed awake. Before I knew it my watch said 5:30 a.m. After a night and early morning of Harvey Wallbangers and Stroh’s, it was time to take our leave. We didn’t have designated drivers in those days. No Lyft. No Uber either. I don’t remember who drove. I can talk about all this 50 years later because the Statute of Limitations expired several decades ago.
We got home at 6 a.m., when our friends came up with a brilliant idea. Another friend who was a local elected official lived on our street. We should go down to his house and thank him for his service to the community.
So, off we went and knocked on his door at 6:05 a.m. He leapt out of bed and came to the front door in his Christmas jammies. We didn’t wait for an invitation to come in. We just went in and plopped down on his living room couch. I’m pretty sure we had a very nice conversation, then exited on a cold winter’s morning, walking back up the street to send our all-night babysitter home. In olden times like the late ‘60s there was no global warming. It was just a normal freezing cold real winter day.
There was no sign of life in the ’hood. Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
It was still dark when we finally got to bed - just like it always is at 7 in the morning on New Year’s Day. We put our toddler, Tracy, in charge while we had an all too short nap.
That’s my Favorite New Year’s story and I’m sticking to it. My wife says this rendition is likely not 100% accurate. I suspect she’s right. In fact, she is right. She’s always right. Think of it as fiction based on historical fact. I tried to fact-check it, but no luck. Anyway, what’s the big deal? One should never let the facts get in the way of a good story.
I’m signing off. It’s time for my first nap of the day.
P.S. I’m pretty sure we forgot to thank our councilman neighbor for his service. Oops.
ALL THE BEST TO YOU AND YOURS IN 2022!
DY: In Just a Few Words is a blog that comes out when something needs to be said or every Tuesday - whichever comes first. Davis Young is a communications professional who adds 50+ years of experience and perspective to issues of the day. His emphasis in DY: In Just a Few Words will be humor (a touch of sarcasm here, a pinch of facetiousness there...). Once in a while, he will touch on something a bit more serious - but hopefully not too deep or depressing.
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