A Belated (?) Happy New Year
It would have been nice if I had marked the beginning of what Journalist-Philosopher-John calls the year "007" by actually writing a blogpost. At least I might have written one for New Year's Eve. But I didn't. Alas. I guess we'll all get over it.
This leads me to wonder, though, how long I am permitted to wish people a Happy New Year. When does a year stop being new? It almost seems like we should get six months. I kind of like having something to say to customers ("Happy New Year!" or "What'd you do for New Year's?") other than, "Have a good one!" This expression has always seemed like a cop-out to me, and I avoided using it like the plague for about a year and a half, but it's hard to keep track of what time of day it is when your schedule is never the same from one day to the next. Eventually, in order to avoid saying things like, "Have a good night!" at five thirty in the morning, I have succumbed to the catch-all line.
On the other hand, if I say, "What'd you do for New Year's?" until June, that might get a little, um, well--old. Not to mention that some people don't remember what they did for New Year's Eve as early as New Year's Day, so the chances of anybody remembering anything about it by Midsummer is a little unlikely.
This year most people have been answering that question, "Not much. It was just quiet." Hardly anybody sounds disappointed by this, surprisingly. My own New Year's Eve was likewise quiet, and I was likewise content. I returned to Nannyland, where my visits are shockingly few and far between in spite of still having friends down there, and celebrated with Anne, Pam, and Lori. We ate dinner on Anne's grandmother's fine china, and then rang in the new year by listening to Clarence-the-Angel get his wings. By the time 2006 ended, Lori had gone home, Anne was half-asleep, and I had a migraine. I only stayed up out of sheer stubbornness. Therefore, in spite of Anne's downstairs neighbours' unusual request to hear loud and raucous hailing of 2007, we only each managed to muster one sleepy "Happy New Year" each.
The next day I had to drive back home through a rainstorm which I was grateful for, for the sole reason that it wasn't the ice storm that had been predicted earlier. I got back in time to throw some lunch and dinner together and then get to work. Work was very, very quiet. Apparently nobody feels the need for specialty coffee on New Year's Day night. After about two months of lines out the door this was both nice and really really weird.
I've had happy new years turn into bad years, and bad new years turn into happy years, but I don't know what to make of quiet new years, really.
What'd you do for New Year's?