The Last Holiday Post of 2008

New Year’s Eve 1985:

For a few years my mother threw New Year’s Eve parties.  They were epic decadent affairs that taught me everything I ever wanted to know about adulthood.

The first one took place when I was 11 and as the party was about to start my mother found me in the kitchen nervously drinking coffee.

She told me to get dressed.

“I am dressed”
-“Not for the party you aren’t”
“I don’t want to”
-“We’re all wearing togas, now go put one on”

I did as I was told. My brother and sister enjoyed bringing people drinks and had a wonderful time that night. For the evening I picked up empties and tried to keep things clean but when the bookshelf fell over I gave up and went into my room to read. Since my room was across from the bathroom, people kept making wrong turns and stumbling into my room.  Usually they just looked at me until I said, “other side, where the line is”, but when the hippie couple came in they said they were looking for me.

“Hey kid, you’re Sam right?”
-“My mom calls me that, but it’s not my name”
“We work with your mom, she says you like books”
-“Did she tell you about me?”
“She talks about you a lot, so we wanted to meet you”

Nobody came looking just for me and here were these two people I’d never met who knew about me, who were interested in me. We talked about books while they rolled joints.  I felt like I had met the best pot smokers in the world and I hoped they would come over more often.

“Hey Sam, can we smoke this in here?”

Yeah, they could.

New Years Eve 1991

The first time I had New Year’s Eve plans that didn’t involve my family was also the first time I touched boobs and didn’t have to pretend it was an accident. In retrospect the boob touching, was only the second best thing to happen that night. The best part was hearing The Replacements “Let It Be” in its entirety for the first time.  The Replacements and boobs immediately became the gold standard for celebrations and it remained so for many years. I hoped that these things would be a part of every New Year’s Eve party but only the Replacements made it back the following year.

New Year’s Eve Epilogue:

In the years since my feeling about New Year’s Eve have wavered, some years I was excited and other years I couldn’t care. Honestly, I usually didn’t feel like celebrating…until a few years ago when this girl showed up.  Since then it’s been pretty awesome.



Filed under General Tomfoolery

8 responses to “The Last Holiday Post of 2008

  1. 1. I’m still fixated on the “togas” bit. My word, what crazy parties you must have had.

    2. Still don’t see the fascination with boobs. I guess they’re soft, but that’s about it for gay men. :P

    3. Too. Sweet. Marry me. Oh wait.

  2. I’m just picturing you staring in silent resignation at the fallen bookshelf, then wandering off muttering under your breath, “That’s it. I quit.”

    Happy New Year, Will.

  3. vintagecaveman

    I love hippies. You’ll never find a violently angry one…except…you know…Charles Manson.


  4. betheboy

    @Vintagecaveman – Charles was more opportunist than hippie. Hippes have a bad enough rep without that guy.

  5. Hmmmm…The Replacements…I’ll never forget the show in a tiny dive in Syracuse (?–never forget, ha!) when I was in college (’88 or ’89). Mmmmmm…

  6. You tell the awesome-est tales.

    And my NYE ambivalence stems I think from still being hungover from the alcohol poisoning I suffered drinking 15 shots of tequila on New Years Eve 1989. Coming a distant second in the bad idea department was the decision after about 8 shots or so to play pingpong ON the pingpong table, like we were giants on a tennis court. It was fun until the foldable table actually folded.

    Ever since, the last day of the year just hasn’t held that much of a big whoop-de-doo for me.

  7. “The first time I had New Year’s Eve plans that didn’t involve my family was also the first time I touched boobs and didn’t have to pretend it was an accident.”

    Great line.

    Great post.

  8. Novysan

    New Year’s Eve all through high school was driven by the urban myth of “whatever you are doing as the clock strikes 12, you’ll be doing most of the year.” This was interpreted by our hormonally deranged minds as you needed to be “in flagrante” when the ball dropped otherwise you’d be a sexless loser for the rest of the year. This of course led to couples scattering mere minutes before the countdown, looking for a private nook, leaving the lonely hearts club band to ring in the new year while they were well aware of what everyone was doing, just out of site, that they weren’t. Ah, high school. We were so mature and compassionate.

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