Ok, it’s happened once again. Not that I’m advocating for a simple extension of Christmas, for more gifts, mind you. Nor more partying, particularly in this, what I call the “Omicron Era”.
I’m not even really sure how to describe the feeling after Christmas. Perhaps it’s the emotional build-up that makes it difficult to move back to everyday life. The start of the new year should perhaps be more joyful. But somehow, none of us expects a sea of change brought on by putting up a new calendar. Oh, sure, maybe in ten years or twenty, we’ll look back and say that 2022 was THE year. People started getting better. They became friendlier, more patient. Climate change began to disappear. Folks in the Middle East will be waving to each other, shaking hands and smiling. Russian hackers go on hiatus. Maybe this will be the year that Publishers Clearing House finally pulls up to my door with a jumbo check, and I’ll break even on all the crap I’ve bought over the years.
So, what is it we really expect to happen at New Year’s? We’ve used it as a benchmark for taking down the Christmas decorations. It’s also for me a date by which I’ll have worn all my new clothes. That’s a Walters tradition. Often, we’ve worn them all by December 26th, changing in shifts to get the job done. Elizabeth is, I have to say, a true Walters in this respect. Much of her new wardrobe has the tags off and tried on by late Christmas Day.
That week between Christmas and New Year’s is sometimes a blinding reminder of all we intended to do, and didn’t during the previous year. It’s rather like preparing for a tax audit. You know it’s coming, but somehow it got put off. This was the year that I was going to finish clearing out the basement. I was going to clean out the garage, as stuff is building up to the point where the car barely fits. We’d talked about getting furniture reupholstered, carpeting replaced, painting the dining room. Those are now on hold because, well, winter time really isn’t best to do “house” stuff. Winter is really a time to hunker down, to let inertia set in. We read and catch up on old tv shows, now that we don’t need to wait for the “summer” reruns. Even our food changes. No more macaroni salads – we’re in cold weather mode – meat loaf and beef stew. I myself have made the major shift from white wines to red. I know what you’re thinking – how can you do that all at once? I really don’t – I start sneaking in the reds in the fall, and by Thanksgiving, well . . . . . .
Getting back to my original premise, what is it about New Year’s that is so deeply disappointing? Ok, we watch the ball drop in New York. We count down from 10. I keep waiting for some important announcement, like, “On the stroke of Midnight, we had a special Powerball drawing, 400 million dollars won by Tom Walters in New Hampshire.” Now, that would make staying up worth the effort. Sadly, that hasn’t happened as yet. So, I bid my family a happy new year and go to bed. That’s it. None of us feels like bubbly at that hour – it will give me stomach acid and I won’t sleep.
I’m not really sure why, but there is usually heavy traffic in Asian food on New Year’s Eve. That’s for those that aren’t invited to a black tie, catered event in a penthouse or hotel ballroom somewhere. We don’t typically do that, nor do we order Chinese food now. But we have in the past. Chinese restauranteurs will tell you it’s one of their biggest nights. I don’t really get that – it’s not their new year. That’s usually a month away, and they really do it up nicely with dragons and elaborate decorations.
January 1st is the time for us to “throw out the first pitch” for the new tax season. It’s that exuberant time of year when, in addition to paying off Christmas bills, we await the arrival of tax documents, begin sorting out the shoeboxes of receipts, gathering up our deductions. I stopped keeping track of a lot of that a few years ago when the standard deduction exceeded anything I could reasonably invent. Also, on the bright side, our dear friend Lady Peacock, who asks me to help her prepare her returns (and folks at the IRS, you didn’t see this and I’ll disavow all knowledge of her returns), will owe a bundle so her tax work is still a few months off. Each year I recommend that she increase her withholdings, and each year she tells me she can’t afford to do that, resulting in a whopping shortfall in April. I still will have time to stock up on my stomach acid pills and anxiety medication.
Yes, indeed. The New Year’s celebration is, to me a large non-starter. It’s one of those that almost never meets expectations, and probably never will. Princess Elizabeth has had a tradition of returning to DC for New Year’s, where she and her friend Monisha had a tradition of going out and spending exorbitant prices for alcohol. It was also a time for her to catch up with her DC friends and connections, but sadly, that’s another casualty to COVID. Perhaps if the film festival circuit returns, she may be able visit again. But New Year’s Eve is kind of like Labor Day but after dark – we have it, we’ll take it, but we’re left asking the essential question, “what was the point?” Labor Day has a barbeque, New Year’s has champagne and shrimp cocktail, so maybe there is some payback. I enjoy putting the rewards of something in terms of food – that’s my priority. I also will require a more extended nap if I’m to stay awake until the ball drops. And that’s another thing – do we need that huge, expensive ball to descend to tell us when the new year arrives? Can’t we all just look at our cell phones?
Oh, well. The celebration has come and gone. All that’s left is to sweep up the confetti and wait for the Super Spreader results to come in. We were told that Times Square was less well attended this year, but it sure didn’t look it to me. Even Ryan Seacrest noted at one point that “a lot more people showed up”, in contrast to the clear intent. Masking was sporadic at best. Of course, when you hold a large event, you shouldn’t be pleasantly surprised that people come, particularly something as iconic as Times Square on New Years’ Eve.On behalf of Her Ladyship and the Princess, I wish all of my faithful readers a happy, healthy new year. I will you all prosperity and hope. I wish you glad tidings of great joy. I wish that 2022 is a return to some
I'm Thinking...No! 