Resolution

I’ve never much cared about New Year’s Eve.  It’s always been kind of a non-holiday for me.  In fact, as I thought about this post and tried hard to conjure up a memorable one, I was rather stymied.

I did come up with a few flashbacks.

1963/64.   Steve Harrison and I in my basement k-i-s-s-i-n-g.

1968/69.  My then-fiance Billy Spatz and I went to Mr. Kelly’s.  I don’t even know who we saw.  Richard Pryor?  Woody Allen?  All I remember was how darn cold it was as I tottered unsteadily in my high heels down an icy Rush Street as we hustled to get inside.

1999/2000.  Watching the Millennium fireworks on television as the new year dawned all over the world.

2003/04.  Mike and I went to a swanky Aspen party at the Hotel Jerome.  We had a reasonable amount of fun, he had one single malt scotch and then we lammed it out of there to get home to dogs that had to be walked.  Mike had smoked a celebratory cigar that night, and as we drove home, he popped a breath mint to get rid of the after-taste.

No sooner had he done that than we were stopped by a traffic cop.

Mike and I looked at each other.  We knew that the fuzz would be armed with citation pads and dangerous that night.  He hadn’t been speeding and he wasn’t even tipsy.  What was up?

“Yes, Officer?” Mike asked politely as he rolled down the window.  “It anything wrong?”

“Your tail light is out, sir.  Are you aware of that?”

Mike assured him that he was, and in fact, the tail light to the Audi Allroad was on back order and due in any minute.

All true.

“Would you step out of the vehicle, sir?” the cop was a little less polite now.

Huh?

Mike was baffled but he complied.  And btw, he wasn’t wearing any top coat.  Only a tux.

But he dutifully got out and I sat in the car in complete bewilderment and watched as that cop put Mike through the field sobriety test.  He made him touch his fingers to his nose, and stand on one leg, and walk a straight line.

All of which Mike passed with flying colors.  He’s a ski instructor, for pete’s sake. He can stand on one leg until the elk come home.

Finally, reluctantly, the cop let him get back in the car and disgustedly waved us off.

“What was that all about?” I asked.

Mike grinned.

“He told me he smelled a breath mint and thought I had popped it to cover up the alcohol on my breath.  I told him that I had smoked a cigar but he wouldn’t believe me.”

“All that for a breath mint?” I was amazed.

“Yeah, and if it wasn’t for the fact that its freakin’ cold outside I could have stood on one leg for two hours.  But you know, it was kind of fun.  That cop was a jerk,” Mike laughed ruefully.

So there you have it.  A make-out session, an icy sidewalk, televised fireworks and a field sobriety test sum up all I can remember over a lifetime of New Year’s Eves.

Not much to write home – or you guys- about.

But I want to turn my attention to the one coming up in a few days.

New Year’s Eve 2013/2014 is going to suck- and I know it.

I’ll be spending it alone.

Now I can just see you all reaching for those tiny violins and breaking out the pity-party music.

Hold up.

I know it sounds kind of pathetic but here are the facts.  I’m back in Chicago after seventeen years away.

All my old friends are married and/or out of town during the winter.

Nick will be in Cali.  Natasha will be in Boston.  (And what’s the difference anyway? Who ever heard of spending NYE with your mother?  How lame is that?)

I haven’t met anyone new at work- unless someone is lurking invisibly in my office as I type this.  (It does cut down on office romances- unless you count the one I am having with myself.)

Mr. Right has been unavoidably detained

But suck though it will, I’m ok with a solo NYE.  I’m going to use the time to ponder my resolutions for 2014.

I don’t drink or smoke and I don’t need to diet*** so these ever-popular ones are off the table.  And I already walk everywhere and ski whenever I’m lucky enough to be on a mountain.

***Alaïa Update:  I can now slip into my slinky, extra small Azzedine Alaïa numbers. However I do need someone else handy to zip them up.  Their Ace Bandage-like fabric prevents me from turning around to grab the zipper.  Job-opening for the right candidate in 2014?

Thus I need a completely different set of resolves.   A “things to do” list.

Thus I hereby resolve that in the year 2014 :

1. I will be more patient.

2.  I will be more grateful.

3.  I will learn how to Tango.

Eleventh Hour Solo NYE Rescue:  My good friend and neighbor has just asked me to dinner and a movie.  Yes!  I will not be spending the evening all alone.

Whew.  That was close.

Now please excuse me.   I’m going to cue up Carlos Gardel and “La Cumparsita” on my iPad.

See you all next year, muchachos.

Make 2014 spectacular.

Ole!