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You’re Boring, Mr. Grinch

December 21, 2008

Four more days until it’s over. If I could only sleep through – ignore the holiday season and sleep until January 2nd.  But, I guess  I am a little superstitious about New Years Eve. Whatever you do (they say) on New Year’s Eve is an indicator of what the rest of your year is going to be like. 

Rationally, I know it’s not true because one New Year’s Eve in Kentucky I spent the night at the cheap and sleazy Mountain Lodge Motel on the outskirts of town with a doctor’s wife – a medical doctor, not a academic one.  I remember joking with her about it. I said something like “Does this mean we’re gonna be doing this all year? Spending nights in bed together in cheap motels across America?”  She wasn’t happy with the question; maybe it was something in the undertone she didn’t like.  The suggestion that we might spend the entire year sinning and fucking in sleazy motel rooms that retain the air of death – those urban legends about dead bodies stuffed in the mattress come to mind and you always wish you had a set of tongs to peel back the bedspread—was probably not what she wanted to hear from me. That night was my first indication that she wanted more. We ended up not spending the year in cheap motels…. and the timer on our little tryst started ticking.

So even thought I know it’s all bullshit, the thought still creeps into my head –the thought that if I don’t do something on New Year’s Eve, I’ll end up spending the entire year doing nothing.  But even as the thought enters my head, I also know that it’s just an excuse; something I tell myself and that other people tell themselves so they will force themselves to go to a party, or wander to the local bar for a few drinks, or visit the family… go to some party, get stupid drunk. Sing Auld Lang Syne. Maybe take that leap of faith that only alcohol can inspire and tell the office cutie or hunk how they really feel. Maybe we use New Year’s Eve as an excuse to try and stay connected with youth. We use it as one of those rare nights of the year we can drink too much, say too much, act like the dumbass we were in college (or, if you didn’t go t college, high school.) The holiday is an excuse to forgive ourselves for waking up on the first full day of the new year hung-over, sore from jumping around in an attempt to dance  “old school,” half naked from a night of pretending to be the bohemian hell raiser nobody ever really was – which, of course, was only really possible before we realized there were consequences for all of our idiotic behaviors.

We haven’t made any plans, really. My wife and I aren’t  “planning” people. We’re talking about getting together with friends from the bar – but my presence will depend largely on how I feel on New Year’s Eve Eve. I may very well drink a quiet beer and go to bed early – if for no other reason than I will then have an excuse to sleep through the holidays next year.

One Comment leave one →
  1. Allen Feibelman permalink
    January 1, 2009 8:27 am

    Mick, I just love your writing. A.

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