New Year's Eve: A Retrospective or Fire is Scary

I've never been a fan of New Year's Eve.

Yesterday I read about the traditions associated with this one minute holiday. Interesting. For example, the act of making resolutions dates back to ancient Babylon, and most people resolved to return farming implements. (Out of respect for the fore-fathers and mothers of this tradition, that's what I shall resolve this year as well. You may all expect your tractors and such that I've failed to return this past year. Soon, very soon. )

Mostly though, the holiday entails much drinking. Much. Much. Drinking. I have problems with this aspect of the holiday. 1) I can't drink the way I used to, and anyway B) I don't feel like wasting any time to recover the next day. And secret reason #3) As a grown-up homeowner, I'm just plain paranoid.

Let me add a few more adjectives to that sentence to fully explain the paranoia.

As a grown-up, outside-of-city limits-yet-within-one-mile-of-three-Mr. W-fireworks-stands, in a-region-under-a-burn-ban homeowner, I'm just plain paranoid about the stupidity of others.

When I was in my early 20's, I hit the bars and even ventured downtown a time or two. Mid-20's were spent with T. & V. Snyder and, of course, Dick Clark. Tame, but safe and sans paranoia.

Then there was the Faux-lenium. I rang in 2000 at my friend's ranch south of town. Upon my return to the apartment complex, I found that the building across from me had been gutted by fire - apparently fireworks & cardboard do not mix. This freaked me out - and there was no mortgage involved for me at that time. Fire is scary.

I've spent the last three NYE's at CPD's abode, very casual with midnight entertainment provided by the Luna Middle School Pyrotechnic Club (Yes, kids! Explosions near the rear end of a car are a good idea!). I am content to spend the evening casual and laid back. Regardless of the lofty expectations associated with NYE, it's a good excuse to hang out with your friends, eat baked cream cheese, and watch reruns of "To Catch a Predator". (And okay, watching many re-runs of "To Catch a Predator" was kind of odd ; yet, we enjoyed making fun of the pervs and coming up with attack shrub noises.) However, the ride home is always a scary one - especially last night while watching a big plume of smoke on the horizon. Would my house still be there? After maneuvering the auto past elementary & middle school-age children still up and lighting things aflame at 1:45 a.m., I'm pleased to report that my house did not require the services of fire personnel. I take this as a good sign of things to come.

Happiness & health to you in 2008!

And I'll get that farm equipment to you soon.