New Year’s Eve, it’s such a tempestuous event. Loved so passionately by many, hated by perhaps as many others. And indeed basically ignored by a fair portion too.

Underlying our conflicted emotions about NYE is the fact that it is the calendar equivalent of a cock-tease. The night that can promise so much and deliver so little.
Although I am not immune to it, I am still amused by the pressure the event seems to engender in many of us to be doing at least something, and if young and frisky to be doing something seriously cool, or at least something as good as all your friends, but preferably better.
This pressure enables all sorts of functions and services to extort customers in a way that is normally reserved for weddings.
In the CBDs, if the bain-marie laden buffet and covers band are a NYE buffet and cover band, that’ll be 300 bucks thanks. It is certainly reminiscent of the well-known blood-sport of charging brides for flowers, photos, clothes, cakes etc where those products miraculously metamorphose into wedding flowers, wedding photos, wedding clothes and wedding cakes and are priced accordingly miraculously.
I digress. Anyway, I won’t be going to any NYE buffets with included glass of Moet to reaffirm self-perception as classy person as I enter the New Year.
Firing my partner-in-entertainment up about NYE is like moving a 12-year-old labrador out of a spot in the sun. We will do something, because I am a die-hard.
Though given I will only be popping a couple of Glucosamine before heading out I suspect it will not be the wildest on record. I even anticipate waking in a house, rather than a car, bench, or floor.
Moreover I’m putting my money on it being in my own house since if I am not home by breakfast the babysitter will be ready to move to Aspen for the rest of the season on the rates she has negotiated for this special evening.
One moderately frustrating aspect of my entertainment partner’s curmudgeonly attitude to NYE is that his negativity is not actually warranted by recent experience.
He seems to have forgotten who it was last NYE that enjoyed a lunch on the water in Rose Bay to the extent that he was happy to remove his clothes at the threshold of the establishment and swim to a boat anchored some distance away in harbour, rather than twiddle thumbs waiting for tender.
Anyway he of the micromemory has now declared that he: “Can’t see any reason to celebrate NYE”.
Moreover, this declaration has been delivered in a tone that clearly implies that there is no accounting for the amusement needs of the less evolved.
In the face of this sort of resistance, I have been forced to re-examine what it is about NYE that makes me feel the need to do something. Why is it that this night is special?
Well first, it’s a secular and thus potentially unifying celebration. But also I consider myself a backward thinker, which puts me in a group who are certainly less fashionable and far overshadowed by their counterparts, the forward thinkers. For me, NYE is not about next year, it’s about the year that was.
For some, the year that was may be best consigned to obscurity, but for me and for millions of others it has been a year generally filled with health, friends and happiness for us and our families, you cant really ask for much more.
In this way, NYE gets all mixed up with foreign notions like Thanksgiving. Giving thanks is something many of us do not do explicitly at other times of the year, so I want to do it on the 31st of December. And I hope you can toast the year that was along with me.
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